


Love West Wing, Spring Special: Stalked

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-08
Updated: 2004-03-08
Packaged: 2019-05-30 23:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh and Donna spend a day out after an exhausting night at work. Things turn ugly when they are chased by Toby, CJ, Sam, the entire press corps, and even a crazy anarchist!  Can they not have a pleasant day by themselves?  Find out, next on....Love West Wing!





	Love West Wing, Spring Special: Stalked

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Love West Wing, Spring Special: Stalked**

**by:** Minhquan Nguyen

**Character(s):** Josh, Donna, CJ, Sam, Toby, OFC  
**Pairing(s):** Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance, Humor  
**Rating:** PG  
**Disclaimer:** West Wing characters belong to other people! Please don’t sue!  College is expensive!  By the way, I know almost nothing specific about streets in DC, so don’t sue me because I’m a visual person, not a word person.  
**Summary:** Josh and Donna spend a day out after an exhausting night at work. Things turn ugly when they are chased by Toby, CJ, Sam, the entire press corps, and even a crazy anarchist!  Can they not have a pleasant day by themselves?  Find out, next on....Love West Wing!  
**Spoiler:**  
 **Feedback:** I’m scared, but okay.  Do whatever you you want.  
**Author's Note:** This is sometime during Season Five.  Or Season Six.  Somewhere... 

(THURSDAY 3:09 AM)

It was the night after an important speech  
And all through the White House  
Some creatures were stirring:  
A girl and her assistant, who in her opinion was a louse.

"Josh, tell me one more time _what_ exactly are we doing here on a Friday at three AM?" asked Donnatella Moss (assistant to Josh Lyman).

"I’ve already told you eight times in the last two hours," the aforementioned Josh Lyman replied tiredly (Deputy Chief of Staff).

"Tell me again."

"Alright, but only if you ask nicely and only if you stick a sock in it afterwards."

"Fine.  Please tell me why-"

"Uh-uh."

"What’s wrong?"

"You know what I mean when I say ‘nicely.’"

"Oh God."

"Say it!  Say it!"

After a tense pause, she muttered, "Oh please, Josh, tell me-"

"Louder!"

"OH PLEASE JOSH, TELL ME ONCE MORE THE WORDS THAT WILL PUT LIFE IN MY SOUL, BREATH IN MY BODY, AND SPARK IN MY HEART.  TELL ME SO THAT WHEN THE NIGHT IS OVER AND I COLLAPSE FROM A COMBINATION OF MALNUTRITION, INSOMNIA, AND BODILY EXHAUSTION, I CAN DIE HAPPY."  With that, she let her hands fall and thought, _If he doesn’t like it, I swear the press is going to have a field day after I slaughter him._   She could already imagine the headlines, "Insane White House Assistant Stabs Boss in Back with Bic Ballpoint Pen!"

Luckily, that would not be necessary.  "Perfect, but that last part was kind of overdone," he told her.

"The momentum carried me.  Now tell me."

"Alright.  After his recent major speech to the Senate, the President wanted us to research the standings of the Senate on some of the policies he mentioned."

"Okay I get that but..." she gestured to the seemingly endless stacks of paperwork, folders, and books surrounding the dimly lit room, "why exactly are we looking up statistics on prostitution in America?!  Don’t you think that’s a tad below our positions?"

"The President, as you know, is a very moral man and he wants to implement more stringent laws against prostitution, strippers...essentially every form of pleasure there is."

"I thought you told me that strippers aren’t popular anymore."

"Yeah, but we like to at least have the option."

"Great.  Just to let you know, I’m sacrificing my social life to do this."

"You don’t have one," he snorted.

"But I could have one if I didn’t have to do this," she protested.  "Imagine the possibilities: endless movies to watch (that is, if I had a DVD player, which I don’t), endless music to illegally download..."

"Endless gomers to line up at the door..."

"See?  The possibilities themselves are endless."

"Look Donna," Josh said irritably, looking up from a stack of papers detailing on the names of senators who had been known to engage in ‘questionable acts of perversity’ in the last three years.  "If you want to leave so much, just go.  Or at least stop yammering long enough for me to read into these.  I have about five more stacks just like them."

"You know I can’t do that because opportunities like these present themselves only so rarely," she said sweetly.

"What opportunities?"

"Opportunities to guilt you at a later time to repay all my works of kind, loving care-"

"Dear Lord," he mumbled.

"-which I of course shower on you at all times, but most especially during times like these when it can be used as leverage to buy me that DVD player to watch the endless movies I can watch during my social life."

"But you don’t have a social life, so I guess the whole effort is a moot point.  And about the loving care-"

"KIND, loving care," she interrupted.

"-kind, loving care," he amended, "if that’s the case, then why don’t you fetch me a cup of coffee every once in a while?"

"Because your whole approach to getting me to get a cup of coffee for you is all wrong."

"How’s that?" he asked while swiveling his eyes back down to Senator McCain’s profile, listing such details as time, place, and circumstances pertaining to the ‘questionable acts of perversity’ committed.  He did this, not only because he found the details both very amusing (and somewhat horrifying, given the senator’s age), but also as a subtle hint for his chatterbox of an assistant to get back to actual work.

"Well, for one thing," she began as she got the hint and looked back at the papers she was also scanning, "you don’t say, ‘DONNA!  Get me some friggin’ java, would ya!"

"I never said that."

"Yes you did."

"No I didn’t."

"Yes, you did and you followed that up by beating on your chest and letting out a Tarzan yell that scared the crap out of Ryan the weenie."

"Now why did you have to ruin a perfectly intimate moment by mentioning him?" Josh groaned.

"Still trying to forget, huh?  I don’t blame you on that one.  You know, that little weasel as good as said I was worthless," she griped, thoroughly pissed off.

"Yeah, but-wait.  When did you hear that?"

"Apparently when the both of you were too caught in the discussion to notice me standing there."

"I told him off about that, you know," he told her.

"Really?" she asked, her interest piqued.

"Well, it was more of a yelling-to."

"Aww...yeah I knew that too," she said flippantly.

"Just how long were you standing there?" he demanded.

"Long enough to see what counts.  It was very sweet of you of saying I was far from worthless."

"Yeah, so don’t be going around telling everybody what an awful boss you have."

"Uhh..."

"You already did it, didn’t you?"

"I’ll print a retraction first thing in the morning."

"Good.  Now can we please get back to work so that we aren’t still here by morning?"

"Hey, have you realized we’ve been here for almost 21 hours?"

"That’s it?  Seems longer."

"You know why," she started, holding up her hand in a "Voila!" position, index finger raised to the heavens, as they were the ones who gave her the answers.

"I have a feeling you’re going to tell me," he said, still looking downward, but a wry smile starting to appear on his face.

"It’s very interesting because we all know that time is relative, right?"

"Yeah.  By the way, who was the guy who said that?" he asked sarcastically.

"I don’t know," she replied, grinning.  "Well anyways, it all has to do with how stressed you are, because your heartbeat is the factor that tells your brain how much time is passing, because the heart is the organ that regulates the circadian rhythm, which is your sleep cycle, and-"

"Dear Lord, I’ve started a wildfire with this one."

"-depending on how stressed you are, your heart rate increases or decreases, so your brain perceives that as time.  Therefore, when your heart is excited by external conditions, your brain thinks time is speeding up, whereas when you’re bored, the heart slows down and you think time is going really slowly."

"Would that explain why I think it took you at least a half-hour to make that commentary?"

"Oh shove it.  Here’s your research file," she said, handing him the newest in a long, long, _very_ long series of research files she had given him in the course of six years.  He took it wordlessly, the same way he had done for almost every single one of those research files.

He studied it a few minutes, seemed satisfied, and pronounced, "Very good, Ms. Moss."

"Say that again.  I swear I almost had a little orgasm in my pants hearing that."

"Very good, Ms. Moss."

"Oh!" she gasped, dramatically.  "Ecstasy!"

"You slay me, lover," he told her grinning, "Well, you’re done and I’m done, you know what that means?"

"We’re done," she exclaimed joyfully.

"No," he said, making her smile shrink instantly and fling itself out the window.  "To be precise, we are done for today.  We still have some work to be done."

"How much?" she inquired suspiciously.

He pretended to make some calculations in his head.  "Let’s see...if today is the 30th...then multiply by the coefficient of work times the value of effort..."

"Josh, cut the crap and just tell me."

"Okay, you know how long we worked today?"

"Yes..."

"Expect five more days just like it," he said sheepishly.

She stared at him openmouthed for a moment, tried to make a noise, but failed.

"I’m sorry!" he said hastily.  "But after the prostitution thing, we have to work on tariffs, then environment issues, then homeland security."

"Then why can’t you get Ryan to help you?" she whined.  She took a good look at his face and said, "Then why can’t you get...someone else...to help you?"

"Because, no one else will work for free."

"Who says I will?"

"I do.  I’m your boss.  You’re my employee.  Employees do what the boss says.  That’s how it works."

"No, I say that how it works is employees do what the boss says as long as it’s within some reasonable and humane standards.  This fulfills neither."

"Alright.  I had a feeling it would come to this, so I have come up with some compensation."

"That’s more like it," she said, folding her arms, and waiting.

He paused, and said, "A one-day coupon for a free night of Josh lovin’."

"You’ve got to be kidding me."

"I got the idea from Joey on ‘Friends.’"

"Because you look so much like Matt LeBlanc," she guessed.

"Yeah, only I’m much cuter than he is."

"Uh-huh.  I’m not buying it," she declared flatly.

"Okay, I thought you might not, but always worth a try.  How about...a new dress?"

"Hmm...keep saying things like that."

"And..." he stammered helplessly.  "Some shoes?" he gambled.

"Keep going..."

"A hat."

"I don’t wear hats."

"Well then, what do you wear?"

"Naughty lingerie."

"Donna, I know it’s late, but let’s not take each other here and now."

"Josh, we’re talking about five more days of unpaid overtime here!  I need the restitution!"

"Fine.  Just name your price, and you can have it."

"A DVD player."

"You can’t have that."

"Skis."

"Or that."

"Josh..."

"Okay, okay, just let me think," he weedled, rubbing his temple.  A few minutes passed until Donna yawned and asked, "Can you speed it up?  It’s kind of late and I really need to be getting home."

"Keep your naughty panties on, I’m trying to think," he grumbled and yawned.  "It is way too late for me to be thinking," he commented.  A few more minutes passed, and it was like a lightbulb popping up and glowing on his face.  "I’ve got it."

"What is it?"

"Oh, you are going to LOVE me when I tell you this one."

"Then tell me and let’s get the loving started."

"Here it is:...an entire day off next month."

"Memorial Day?"

"Dang, I was hoping you wouldn’t catch that."

"Josh!  I really don’t have the consciousness for this."

"Just kidding.  Look, if you just deal with this for the rest of the week, I promise, that one day next month you and I will take the entire day off and I will personally treat you to lunch and dinner, AND a shopping spree."

"Oh my God, Josh, that is-"

"A shopping spree up to twenty dollars."

"Oh.  I suspect we’ll be spending the majority of the day at Walmart then?"

"Donna..." he said warningly.

"Okay, okay, just JOSHing with you, JOSH.  Get it?  Haha!" she laughed and slapped her knee.

"Yeah, we’ve been here way too long," he said.  "So.  Does that sound good?"

She smiled.  "Yeah.  It sounds really good.  Now let’s get the mother trucker outta here."  She put on her coat, helped him into his, and they both set off, making their way through the empty bullpen towards the back exits.  It was eerie, how dark everything was, and how the usual noise of the wing was gone.  Eerie, and a little pleasant too, Donna thought.  It was nice, just the two of them, this once.

As they walked, Donna asked, "So, what day do you want to take off?"

"How about next Thursday?"

"Naah.  Thursdays are TV nights.  I like to catch up with all the shows I missed during the week on Thursdays.  That way, I can watch Friends too," she told him as they opened the metal bar gate and stepped towards the parking lot.

"Alright, how about the Friday after that?"

"That’s better.  Yeah, Friday sounds great."

"Great.  Because if you sleep in long enough, I can skip out on paying for lunch."

"Yeah, uh-huh, not a chance."

"Oooh, so close."

"See you tomorrow, Josh," she said, getting into her car.

"Actually, it would be more appropriate to say, ‘See you today, Josh.’"

"Oh, go home already, you’re DRIVing me crazy.  Get it?  Drive?  Haha!" she laughed as she accelerated the car and flew by him towards the exit.

"Who’s the crazy one?!" he shouted after her.

                                                **********

(ONE WEEK LATER...)

After that night, several more mornings had passed over the West Wing, many of them shining on a bleary-eyed Josh and Donna as they worked their regular hours after getting about five hours of sleep each.  The bullpen was in its usual noisy self, and both were busy at work...uh, did I say ‘work?’

"Joooosh," sang Donna musically as she stepped into his office.

"Whaaaat?" said Josh unmusically as he flipped through some paperwork on his desk.

"Are you all ready for tomorrow?" she inquired, opening up yet another folder and selecting a paper to hand to him.

"What’s tomorrow?" he asked tiredly.

She looked up.  "Our day off tomorrow... together... you pay for everything, I smile and look beautiful...remember?"

His mind blanked for a few minutes, then after what seemed like an eternal pause, his mind finally found the video clip of the promise he made a week ago.  Quickly he replied, "Ah...of course.  How can I forget with you to harangue me about it all the time?"  He laughed nervously, a sound like a deflating tire.

Not reassured, she told him, "You have a staff meeting in five minutes."

"On my way."  He stood up, took the file she handed him, and walked out, Donna following closely behind.

"Hey you know what I heard?"

"Hmm," he said distractedly.

"Sam’s going to be back in town sometime this month."

This time he looked up with interest.  "Really?  How do you know?"

"I was watching the news last night-"

"How the heck did you find time to do that?" he interrupted.  "We went home at nearly three last night."

"I make it a point to watch the news every night, regardless of how tired I am."

"Do you watch it while you undress?" he asked, even more interested.

"Yes.  I find it gives me a fantastic turn-on right before I go to bed."

"Hey, me too."

"Anyways, I saw on the news that campaigning Democrats from the sunbelt states are holding a convention in DC to plan their policy strategies."

"Which means they are holding thousand dollar dinners to fundraise for the campaigns," he translated.

"Yup.  And California is included, so Sam might be there.  Don’t you find that exciting?"

"I would if I actually knew that he was coming," he said.

"Well, maybe he’ll call," she suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, and maybe he’ll not."

"Has anyone ever told you what a great motivational speaker you are?" she grumbled.

"Yeah, but I got the feeling she was kidding."  They stopped outside the Oval Office, and Donna straightened his tie before letting him go in.

"Why must you do that every single time?" he asked impatiently.

"Because you’re meeting with the President.  You have to maintain some sense of formality with him.  Why do you think I dress in pantsuits everyday?  Don’t you think that I’d prefer to wear something more comfortable instead?"

"Donna, if this is an invitation, I can’t say that I’m not interested, but now is not the time."

"Anyways, you can go in now, the tie is all set," she authorized.

"I see him several times a day.  I think I’m entitled to have a crooked tie once in all those times."

As they bickered, Toby Zeigler (Communications Director) slid past them and opened the door.  "Ah, get a room will ya?  You guys sound like an old married couple," he said as he entered, Josh following.

"Stuff it Toby!" she called out behind them.

It seemed that everybody else was already there: CJ Cregg (Press Secretary), Leo McGarry (Chief of Staff), and Jed Bartlett, the President of the United States himself,  were sitting down and waiting.  "Who sounds like an old married couple?" CJ asked.

Toby gestured towards Josh.  "Old Fred and Ethel themselves, in the flesh."

"Oh, Josh and Donna.  I thought we were talking about someone new," Leo said.

Slightly rumpled, Josh said, "Alright, can we stop talking about this and get down to some actual work?"

"I’ll second that," said President Bartlett amiably.  And get down to actual work they did, spending almost an hour discussing rumors of gerrymandering and a threat of a Republican House, and all sorts of the rather dull stuff that was so essential to maintaining the country.  When they were all talked out, the President stood up and said, "We did some good work today, people.  You are dismissed."

"Thank you Mr. President," they all replied reflexively.  After he thought they had all left, President Bartlett started towards his desk when he heard a slight cough behind him.  Turning around, he saw Josh standing there with a sheepish green on his face.

"Um, Mr. President?"

"What is it, Josh?"

"Tomorrow..." he hesitated, and Bartlett interjected by saying, "By the way, nice work on the status reports you gave me this week.  I think with a little, shall we say, ‘persuasion,’ we might be able to get some laws that we want passed, for once.’"

"Thank you Sir.  Funny you should mention that..."

"Did Donna help you with those?  It must have been rough that night."

"Actually, it was more of a rough week Sir."

"You made her work late the entire week?" he exclaimed.  "We’re not paying overtime here, Josh!"

_Thank God, or she’d be getting paid more than I do_ , Josh thought.  "Yeah well, I’m making it up to her," he said defensively.

"Good of you to do it.  She deserves the compensation considering how she deals with you everyday in addition to that."

"If you are done deflating my ego, sir, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  I kind of promised her a day off."

There was a pause.

"What?"

"I promised I’d let her have tomorrow off and that I would treat her to lunch and dinner AND let her buy something...up to twenty dollars," he added hastily.  _And man, do I ever regret it now_ , he added mentally.

"So that would mean you’d take the day off too, right?" the President asked.

"Sort of...yeah."  Another long pause, while Josh thought, _Great, this is the day I get fired._   This was interrupted when the President began to chuckle, then guffaw a little bit.  Josh laughed along too, weakly, and not really knowing what was going on.

"What’s so funny Sir?"

"You!  Taking a day off!" he chortled.  "You have almost never voluntarily taken an afternoon off and here you are wrangled into spending an entire day out of work...on a Friday to boot!  And with Donna!  That’s too much," he continued to laugh, completely bowled over by the irony.

"You are so sensitive to my plight Sir," commented Josh dryly.  _That’s it!_ he thought, _From now on, I’ll just give her the damn DVD player._   "So I’ll take it that you give me the permission?"

"Yes, and with my blessings too," the President said, still grinning.

"Thank you, Mr. President," he mumbled as he left.

When the door closed behind him, the President sat back in his chair, thinking, _It’s a good thing I didn’t tell him that Toby and CJ are also taking the day off tomorrow.  He might just flee for the border if there was any possibility that he would be caught going out with Donna_.

Little did he know that his words foretold a long and very amusing plotline that was to come, rather like an ominous prophecy.

As Josh walked glumly through the bullpen, he was apprehended once more by the blond bombshell known as Donna.  "So, did you ask him?"

"Ask him what?"

"About tomorrow."

"What makes you think I hadn’t already done it before?"

"Because I’m attuned to you.  I just happen to know that your subconscious deliberately forgot due to the stress at the time.  It’s called repression, Josh.  It’s more commonly known as a psychological slip."

"Then you’ll forgive me when later I forget this conversation."

"So did you ask him?"

"I asked him the day after we planned it you know," he lied glibly.

"Uh-huh.  But we can go right?" she asked impatiently.

"Well, when I asked him about a WEEK AGO, he said we could."

"Oh yeeeaaahhh!" she pumped her fist into the air, then shouted, "Carol!  Do me a favor and move a little bit.  I wanna do a cartwheel."

Josh grabbed her by the arm and snarled, "And I was so hoping that you wouldn’t make a big deal out of this."

"Not a chance.  Well, thanks for asking the President anyway, whenever you did it."

"A week ago, I did it a week ago," he insisted.

"So it was a good thing that I reminded you this morning?"

"Yeah."

                                                *************

(FRIDAY 10 AM)

Friday morning was bright and sunny, and lucky too because Donna needed all the natural light she could get on her face.  Kneeling in front of the mirror, dressed very nicely indeed, she was putting on some clear lip gloss and scrutinizing her face in the critical way all women do.  She thought sometimes it was too much trouble to primp herself up each time she went out, but...

"Well, it’s fun to dress up every once in a while," she said aloud, grinning.

"Dress up where?"

Startled, Donna turned to find her newest roommate, Kondo Mitsune standing at the doorway.  Actually, everybody called her Kitsune because her eyes were so small they were like a fox’s ("Kitsune" means "fox" in Japanese).

"Kitsune!  You scared the living daylights out of me!  What are you doing?" Donna demanded.

"Oh nothing much.  Just listening to you talk to yourself about how beautiful you are.  That’s a sure sign of insanity, you know."

Donna blushed.  "Have I been talking out loud this whole time?"

"No, but I heard enough."  Kitsune moved in closer, circling Donna, and appraising the entire outfit and makeup.  "Hmm...what’s with you Donna?  You seem suspiciously sexy today...you even put on an actual skirt, so you’re definitely not going to work...and I can understand that.  If I had to wear pantsuits everyday, I’d quit that job too.  What could it be...?" she murmured aloud.

"Aha!  I know!  It must be a date with Josh, right?"

Completely taken aback, Donna stood up hastily, causing Kitsune to fall flat on her butt.  "Are you crazy?  We’re simply having some lunch together today, that’s all.  He owes it to me!" she protested.

Wiping imaginary tears from her eyes, Kitsune said in fake wavering tones, "Oh I get it...you two are a happy couple now.  I’m so proud!"

"Are you listening?!" Donna shouted.  She was interrupted when Kitsune held up her hand in her face.

"Just a few tips, Donna.  Even if you look at Josh as a boss, he’s still a guy.  No matter what, if he forcefully ‘invites’ you, you can’t give ‘it’ to him that easily," she leered, holding out Donna’s skirt very suggestively.

Snatching the length of skirt back, Donna said, "There’s no way that can happen!"

"Hey, I know what I’m talking about.  I have ‘experience,’ if you know what I mean," Kitsune bragged, her slitted eyes shining knowingly.

"Do I.  This is coming from the girl who comes home with five bottles of sake and a randomly generated gome-I mean guy every night."  _Great_ , Donna thought, _Now he’s got me saying it too._

"All the more reason to believe what I say.  Trust me, look into my eyes and you can see the truth just spilling out," Kitsune said confidentially, pointing to her slits of eyes.

Donna tried to see the pupils, failed, and said, "Well, in any case, nothing’s going to happen anyway, so I guess whatever you tell me is going to be a moot point.  I’ll see you later tonight."

And with that, she walked out of the apartment, only to hear Kitsune calling after her, "You did remember to bring some ‘protection’ with you, right?"

She gritted her teeth and replied, "I brought Mace if that’s what you mean."  _And I’ll need it,_ she thought while walking to her car.

Back in the apartment, Kitsune looked thoughtfully out the window at Donna’s retreating car, then picked up the phone.  She dialed in a number, and when the ringing stopped, murmured into the phone, "Hey love, I just wanted to call you to tell you that about last night...it was fun, but today I’ve got other plans.  Hmm?  What are they?  Well, I thought I might just go out bird watching...Oh yeah, I’m really into it.  It’s my passion you can say...uh-huh.  Thanks, you’re awesome.  Bye love," she crooned and hung up the phone.

Standing up, she said aloud, "Yeah I’m bird watching alright.  Lovebird watching."  She grinned and went into her bedroom.  When she exited, she was carrying a hefty black bag slung over her shoulder, and a pair of binoculars over her neck.  If one were to look out the same window she did, we would have seen another car leave the area, taking the same exact route the previous car did.

                                                ************

(FRIDAY 11:15 AM)

Josh was standing at the corner of Jefferson Avenue and Fifth, right near the long stretch of street where the Smithsonian series of museums were located.  He looked down at his watch and wondered whether or not if it would be sleazy of him to skip lunch if she came late enough.  Then he realized that due to the suckiness of his watch, there was no way for him to tell when that was, it was a moot point.

At this point, he heard a voice behind him and turned.  "Thanks for waiting!"

"You’re late," he informed her.

"How would you know?  Your watch sucks," she told him.

"No it doesn’t.  It’s a prime and classy watch.  It has character.  It does not suck."

"Actually, it does.  In fact it sucks in three very specific ways."  She counted out on her fingers, "One: so hard.  Two: so bad.  And three: so major bad."

"Thanks.  Is this how you repay the man who’s treating you out to lunch?"

"Only if he’s the man who’s repaying me by treating me out to lunch," she said playfully.  At this, Josh was beaten, and he used the time she took laughing at him to look her over.

It was such a warm day, that she decided to dress in all white.  She wore a light blouse that accentuated her "curves," so to speak, with cream-colored sleeves that extended all the way to her wrists.  Her skirt came down almost to her knees, and she wore some white strap heels.  Last of all, were the silvery drop earrings that she got from Kitsune for a Christmas present, guaranteed to "ensure classiness when dressing up for a guy.  You know, guys get a huge turn on when they see classy.  Why do you think Audrey Hepburn was so popular?"  She had tied back her blond hair with a big white bow halfway down its length.  All in all, he had to say that she looked...there was only one word for it: HOT.

But he only said, "You look good."

She smiled and said, "You don’t look too bad yourself."  And he didn’t.  In fact, he looked pretty cute standing there in his tan slacks and white cuffed shirt, a tan jacket slung over his shoulder.  It was weird how matched it all seemed...as if fate...no wait, what was she thinking?  She shook her head and said, "So where are we going?"

"Well..." he started, but his thoughts were interrupted when he overhead two guys behind him whispering, "Man that girl is hot!"

"Yeah, but do you think that a girl like that and a guy like him can really go together?" the other whispered.

At that point, Josh was about to turn around and say whatever was about to come out of his mouth when he was distracted by Donna saying, "You know, it really is warm out.  I better take this off now," she said, pointing to her ribbon.  "It gets hot, tied back like this," she explained.  He nodded, and watched as she pulled out the ribbon and let her long, golden hair fly back in the breeze that just "happened" to come out of nowhere at the time.

Staring at the waving, shimmering lot of hair, Josh could feel his ears starting to burn.  Donna smiled outwardly and inwardly.  _Works every time_ , she thought.  _I guess Josh is a guy after all._

"So anyways," he started again, regaining his pretense of indifference, "Let’s get started; we have a busy day ahead of us."  And with that, he started walking quickly down the long boulevard.  She grinned, and followed, wondering _Hmm...I wonder where he’s gonna take me._

At the same time this little episode was going on, Toby and CJ were having a lunch of their own on their day off, just across the street.  Their discourse, however, was much less interesting.

"So I was thinking," Toby said through a mouthful of salad, "That if I changed the last paragraph to something a little bit more progressive, we might get the liberals on our side of the battle at least."

"Yes, especially after he made a point on putting more limits on abortions," CJ replied dryly.  "By the way, you have ranch in your beard."

He scrubbed at it with a napkin, and after putting in back down (with ranch still in his beard), he said, "Yeah, and he’s trying to rid prostitution from the country too.  What’s the world coming to?"

"You got me," she said distractedly, still staring at the dab of white sauce that was blaring on his beard like a stoplight.  Her attention was pulled away from this interesting spectacle by something outside the window.

"Anyways-"

"Hey, shut up a minute," she ordered, leaning over on her booth to peer more closely through the window.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"Look!"

He looked.

"Hey, isn’t that-"

"Yup."

"And is she wearing-"

"Double yup."

"And is he actually taking-"

"Apparently so, yup."

"Stop that, you’re starting to sound like a yuppie."

"Haha.  Come on, let’s go," she said, grabbing her jacket.

"Where are we going?" he asked, standing up.

"We are going to follow them," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"No we’re not," he said, sitting back down.

"Yes we are."

"No we’re not."

"Yes we ARE.  Now let’s get moving before we lose sight of them," she commanded, dragging him up and out the restaurant.

"Agh, stop it, you’re yanking my arms out of their sockets!"

"Well, hurry up, we’re losing them!"

"CJ, I feel like a jerk," he protested, trying to keep up with her.

"Oh come now, let’s not be a party-pooper about this.  Why are you in such a bad mood today?  And while I’m asking that, why are you in such a bad mood everyday?"

"Because people like you still take up my air," he told her grouchily.  They were silent for a while, keeping in good pace with the couple in the front, but still far enough so they had enough lead time to quickly duck behind a mailbox or some other convenient hiding place.  It was one of these hiding moments (with CJ standing behind a very thick and tall tree, and Toby crouching behind some shrubbery), that something important occurred to him.

"Say, did you pay for the meal before we left?" he asked suddenly.

"No.  I thought you did," she replied, turning to him.

"So apparently, we don’t pay for our food anymore," he commented.

"Ah, I’m sure they’ll get over it.  We’ll repay the favor by running the country for them."

"Good point."

"Can you still see them?"

"Well, I can see Donna at least.  A whole lot of her.  Wow, she has a nice-"

"I think we should switch sides now," CJ said quickly.

"But-"

"NOW."

"Okay," he said, and they hastily switched positions so CJ was the one trailing Donna.  So began a convenient side story to divert some attention away from our two main characters.  And it wouldn’t be the only one either, as we will soon see.

                                                ************

(FRIDAY 11:45 AM)

"Here we are!"

She looked up at the blaring "Mabel’s Diner" sign that seemed to stand out all the more in the sunlight with its yellow background.  "Um, this is the place?" she asked doubtfully.

"Yup.  This place has the best burgers and fries in all of the District of Columbia.  Plus, with the best prices for those who are economic."

_Is this where he takes a girl on a day out?_ _And is that all he’s worried about, the prices?  No wonder Mandy broke up with him,_ she thought, a little annoyed.  "You know, describing people as ‘economic’ is only a nice way of saying they’re tightwads."

"Works fine with me; I’ve got a twenty dollar shopping spree coming up later today, and you know, I have to be very efficient with my spending," he joked, not really looking at the peeved expression on her face until it was too late.  "What, is something the matter?"

"It’s nothing!  Let’s just go in," she said, still a little peeved, but walking towards the diner’s entrance anyway.  Still disconcerted, Josh followed until a familiar voice stopped them.

"Josh!  Donna!"

They turned, and lo and behold, there was Sam Seaborne running up to them, looking the same as ever, except...

"W-W-What’s with the goatee?!" Josh exclaimed, shocked and pointing to the offensive face stubble.

"You know, Josh, when you’re meeting an old friend you haven’t seen for a few years, it’s really more customary to say something like, ‘Gee, Sam, you look swell!’"

"Fine.  Gee, Sam, you look swell except for the hideous barbs growing on the bottom of your chin."

"Thanks," he paused, then said, "Say Donna, are you going to say hello to me too, or are you just going to spend our entire reunion laughing?"

Still helplessly bent over from laughing, she said, "No, no, of course not.  Hey Sam!  It’s too bad CJ and Toby aren’t here, but I think I speak for Toby when I say he wants his beard back."

One store down, where the aforementioned CJ and Toby were maintaining a discrete position, Toby half-shouted, "What’s that supposed to mean?!"

"Shh!  Quiet!  And you’ve still got dressing in your beard."

Back at the reunion, Sam commented, "Haha, so very funny.  By the way, I just want you to know, and I hope you won’t get too emotional about this, that I hope you laugh so hard you burst and die."

In a false teary voice that would have made Kitsune proud, she wavered, "Sam, you never fail to tear me up.  And me without a Kleenex in sight."

"So anyways," Josh interrupted their banter, "Why are you here?  Shouldn’t you be a bit too busy, I don’t know, running another campaign or something?"

"Yeah, but didn’t you hear?  This is a Democratic fundraising dinner that involves all the Sunbelt states.  I just got off a meeting with a challenger from Nevada who used to run a very classy show in Las Vegas called the ‘Ex-Pussycats.’  I can’t believe you didn’t hear about this.’"

"Oh he did," said Donna.  "From me.  But like most of the things I say, he didn’t listen."

"Well, considering most of the things you say, why should I?"

"Because then when something like this happens, you don’t look stupid."

"I don’t look stupid."

"Oh, I beg to differ.  In fact, you look very stupid."

Sam laughed at the ongoing insult banter that always seemed to flow so smoothly out of their mouths.  _Well, at least these two haven’t changed.  They kind of sound like they’ve been together for years...which is kind of disturbing, if you think about it._   He thought about it, and gave a slight shudder.

"What’s the matter?" Josh asked.

"Ahhh..haha, nothing.  Say, you guys want to have some lunch with me?"

"Actually, we were just going to have some lunch right here," started Josh, only to have Donna interrupt and say, "Yeah, but we can change plans.  Where were you planning to go, Sam?"

"Um, nowhere special, just some restaurant around here that has actual silverware would be a nice change of place though.  I’ve been eating burger food and take out almost all week."

"Well, that’s still a step up from this place," Donna commented, not seeing the irritated expression now appearing on Josh’s face.

This expression did not go by Sam, though.  "Ahh, we can still go here, if you want," he stammered nervously.

"No, it’s fine," she laughed it off, and turning to Josh said, "Besides, you were gonna pay for me anyways, right?"

"Yeah.  Under the condition that I choose the place we’re eating."

"When was _that_ in our deal?"

"I’m the one paying!  I’m the one who chooses, since it’s my money that’s going down the drain in the first place!" he replied angrily.

"So are you saying that this whole deal is a waste of time?" she asked, getting angry in her turn.

At this point, both were so busy in their argument that they did not notice CJ and Toby dash down, snatch the shocked Sam, and drag him back to the store down the street.

"You guys!" Sam exclaimed, shocked.

"Hey, nice to see you again and all that, but we’re kind of in the middle of something right now, and you’re interrupting," CJ told him.

"How?  I just got here!"

"Shhhh!" CJ ordered, putting her hand over his mouth.

Wrenching it away, Sam demanded, "Can someone please tell me what’s going on?"

Toby bent down, and hastily explained in a deadened voice, "We’re following Josh and Donna around town because for some inexplicable reason, both of them are spending the whole day together in nice, casual clothes and away from work.  You interrupted all that when you came up, offered a place that upped Josh’s place, and planted discord in the situation which could have very well turned out nothing ‘juicy,’ as CJ would put it."

Sam tried to say something coherent, but instead said, "Oh."

"Amazing how you used to be our Deputy Communications Director."

"Nice words coming from the guy with dressing in his beard."

"About that, what’s up with yours?"

"Pretty nice, huh?"

"I’m sure all the urchins in the sea will fall head over heels."

And as our imaginary camera turns back the couple in question, we see their argument, though still heated, is coming to an end.

"Well, if you’re so intent on going to a nicer place than Mabel’s here (which, I may add, makes milkshakes so smooth it’s like drinking heaven), then why don’t you go with him?"

"Well, maybe I will," she said defiantly.

"Fine.  Just don’t count me in, and later ask why I never repay you for your hard work."

"Fine!" she turned around and said, "Sam, let’s go!" only to find a pair of women looking back at her very strangely.  She looked around, saying, "Huh?  He’s not here?"

"Amazing," Josh said breathlessly.

"What?"

"While in California, Sam developed the power to become invisible."

Groaning, she commented, "Anyway, that’s weird.  He might have at least told us he was going."

"I guess he got tired for the storm to blow over."

"I guess so, huh?" she laughed.  There was an awkward pause as they both stood outside of Mabel’s Diner, wondering whose dignity would be hurt the most to suggest going inside.  Donna decided to make amends this time.  "Well, now I’m really hungry, and I don’t feel like taking more time to go someplace else, so why don’t we go in here?"

"Really?" his expression brightened visibly.

"Yeah.  Besides, I’m in the mood for a good ol’ Sloppy Joe, which I’m sure Mabel makes so well," she told him as she grabbed his arm and pulled him in.

"Now you realize that Mabel is no longer alive, right?"

"Then who’s the owner of the store?"

"I don’t know.  Some girl named Bertha, I think."

"Then why don’t they call it Bertha’s Diner?"

"Because they want to attract normal people in addition to obese people."

And that was the last CJ was able to catch from the store next door.  "Damn!  They’ve gone inside."

"Well, I guess that’s that," Toby said.

"No, it’s not!  I’m sure the juicy parts are waiting inside that restaurant."

"CJ, I wish you’d stop saying ‘juicy.’  It really makes you sound unprofessional," he informed her.

"We’re gonna have to go inside," she declared.

"How?  We’re not exactly disguised or anything," Sam pointed out.

"Well, Toby and I aren’t, but as for you...I suppose if you put on a red checkered shirt, you could easily pass for the Brawny man."

"Who?"

"You know, the towel guy."

"I look like a towel guy?"

"Oh this conversation is idiotic," Toby interrupted.  "I can’t believe the people involved in this conversation are the most brilliant political minds in the US."

"Shut up a minute, I’m trying to think," CJ said.  "We’ve got to find a way to get inside without them recognizing us."

"Know any good costume stores in DC?" Sam asked.

All three took on thoughtful expressions as they schemed under the store’s sign, which said, "Harley’s: The Motorcycle Man’s Friendly Store for the Butch."  Convenient, indeed.

                                                ***********

(FRIDAY 11:57 AM)

Inside Mabel’s, Donna and Josh had seated themselves in a nice corner booth next to a window.  After a waitress handed her a menu, Donna asked, "Hi, I was just wondering.  If a lady named Bertha owns this store, how come they don’t change the name to Bertha’s Diner?"

"Don’t mind her," Josh interrupted, shoving the menu into Donna’s face, "She’s just drunk again.  Just please get her an ice-water or something to sober her up."

After the waitress quickly hurried away, Donna commented, "You know, those are fancy words for a person who can’t take more than two drinks of light beer before he passes out."

"That’s not true."

"You have a very delicate system, Josh."

"I keep telling you, stop saying that!  It makes me sound like a fairy-boy."

"Yeah, well-" she started, but was hushed by Josh.  "What’s up?"

"Look behind you," Josh grinned.  Donna turned and saw three very butch looking leathered-up men, two with beards, and another with a displeased, but resigned expression.  All three were wearing shades, leather clothes with metal bits plastered all over, and very smelly-looking boots.  She grinned also, and turned back.  "Wow, I guess there’s a Harley Davidson’s convention in addition to the Sunbelt Democratic one."

"Either that, or they’re coming to protest the crappy conditions on Route 66 again."

Two booths down, CJ, Toby, and Sam settled themselves before starting on a conversation addressing the obvious.  "Well, I’d consider Operation: Butch and Brawny was a colossal success," Toby said, pulling at the bandana on his head.

"Don’t!" CJ hissed.  "You pull that off and reveal your reflecting beacon of a head, and we’ll be done for."

"Why did I have to wear the clip-on earring?" complained Sam, tugging at it slightly.  "It really pinches."

"Ah, stop whining you big baby.  At least you’re not the one who is easily mistaken for a man," CJ grumbled.

"All a hard price to pay to stalk your friends," Toby reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, leaning back a little to better hear the conversation.

Completely ignorant of the fact that their three closest friends were sitting just two booths away, Donna and Josh continued their lively banter before the waitress came back to take their orders.

"Yeah, I’ll have the onion log and a Mega-Burger special," Josh said, handing back the menu.

"And for you, miss?" the waitress asked, eyeing Donna suspiciously.

"I’m not too hungry today, but since my good friend here is paying, I’ll have the Super Sampler, the Club Sandwich Special, a Garden Salad, a Soup of the Day, and a Chocolate Milkshake, considering how he cannot praise them enough here."

"Very good, I’ll be back with your food in a few minutes," she said, and hurried away.

Josh turned back to Donna, mouth wide open.  "Why don’t you just order a supermarket while you’re at it?"

"I figured we’d go out for a snack later."

"Can you even eat all that?"

"Oh this petite body can handle three times its body weight."

"And here I thought you maintained your girlish figure by starving yourself."

"And we’ve known each other how long?"

"Not long enough, apparently."

CJ coughed impatiently.  "Come on, get to the good stuff..."

"Ironic, isn’t it?" Toby asked.  Sam nodded in agreement.

"What’s ironic?" CJ demanded.

"The fact that the press secretary of the United States who has so often proclaimed the offensive lack of respect for privacy, is now taking that offensive lack of privacy a step further than almost any reporter you’ve dealt with," Toby said.

"I’d argue with you, but I’m pretty sure if I did, I’d miss something really fantastic," she said abruptly, and started leaning back once more.

"I may be missing something," Sam started, pulling back his leather jacket to get more comfortable, "but what exactly are we listening for?"

CJ sighed impatiently, and snapped, "We, and by we I mean me, are listening for any sign, even the most telltale, that the relationship between Donna and Josh are taking a turn for the better."

"What do you mean for the better?" Sam asked.

"You know...beyond boss and employee."

"Well, you know, they’re pretty good friends already."

"Oh honest to God!" CJ nearly threw a tantrum from frustration.  "Toby, you do the honors," she ordered.

Sam stared attentively as Toby droned, "We are looking for any kind of indication that Josh and Donna might embark upon a relationship that goes along the lines of, as Elvis Presley would put it, ‘love me tender, love me sweet.’"

Sam burst out laughing.  "You’ve got to be kidding me!  Josh and Donna?!"

"Quiet!" she hissed.  "We’re not that far away and not that well disguised."

"Although I must say CJ, never have I wanted you more," Toby told her.

"Shut up.  Honestly Sam, you mean you’ve never even noticed that they had a thing going on?"

"A thing?  What thing?"

"I give up," she threw up her hands and turned back to the conversation, still going strong even with the food delivered.

"Agh mean," Josh said through a mouthful of fries, "ve’ve bever had abl chagsse to-"

Donna flinched as a minute piece of starch hit her face.  "Sorry," Josh said before continuing, "Anyways, what I was saying was that for once, we’ve never had a chance to have an easy time with Congress because they’ve always been an opposing party, so I was thinking-"

"Um, Josh, no offense, but as fascinating as it is to talk about the legislative process, it gets old when we do it, oh...everyday at the office, so do you think we can talk about something else?" Donna interrupted.

Slight taken aback, Josh replied, "Uh, sure.  What do you want to talk about?"

"Well...um...uh...ahhahaha..." Donna laughed nervously, still thinking as Josh looked on, amused.  Seeing this, she told him, "You could be helping me out here."

"And miss you struggle for words for the first time in like ever?  Not a chance."

"I think the struggle is finding a subject where it’s not government-related, and not something that will bore you, and not something that will offend me, and not something we can argue about."

"And that leaves...?"

"Food and CJ."

"Food sounds good," Josh said quickly.

"Why not CJ?  She’s something we haven’t talked about all day long."

"Yeah, but in my experience, I’ve learned that every time we even remotely talking about CJ..." he trailed off.

Donna finished for him.  "...she charges out the press room calling you an idiot and wielding a very sharp pencil."  (Toby and Sam turned to her.  CJ looked at them, and said, "I do not!  He’s so going to get it on Monday.")

"Yeah."

"Okay.  Fries.  Let’s talk about how you eat fries."

"What’s wrong with the way I eat fries?"

"That when you do, you spew it all over me," she informed him.

"And you don’t like that?"

"That you inherently treat me like a spittoon?  Turns me on."

"I thought so."

                                                ************

(FRIDAY 12:17 PM)

Though our two main characters still had no idea that their three friends were closely on their tail (in fact, two booths away closely), all five did not know that there were other stalkers at play that day.

One, was our good friend Kitsune, who had been staring through the restaurant window for almost a good hour with her best binoculars and still not seen anything interesting.  "Huh!  Their relationship isn’t going to go anywhere this way.  Feigning ignorance is all well and good, but I suppose a little interference to make the day more interesting is in favor.  Now, how do I manage that?" she schemed.  She was often full of ideas, but this time, it was sort of a slippery slope.  There is a trick to straddling the line of stalker interference and not get caught.  But wait...who was that?...

It was in fact our number two stalker, Danny Concannon, rambling around town after discovering that both his girlfriend (in a manner of speaking) and press secretary (from whom all his stories flowed) was missing.  Since both were embodied in the person of CJ Cregg, he thought it might be amusing to try to scope her out on the town, and get some fun out of her day off.

Rather than finding the woman he wanted, another woman found him instead.  "Hey, mister," Kitsune called out to him from her position up a tree.

He looked up, looked around, then looked back.  "Nice scoping position."

"Thanks.  Aren’t you one of the big shots in the White House press room?"

"Yeah.  What’s it to you?"

She bent her head down, suspending herself on the tree branch with her legs only.  "You want a story?"

He peered at her thin eyes, and said, "What’ve you got?"

"Hey, first things first.  I don’t like favoring one guy over the other, so you’re gonna have to take this bit of information and dole it out to the other rabid reporters you’ve got."

"Fair enough, I suppose.  What’s the story?"

She pointed towards Mabel’s Diner, where Josh and Donna were in full and plain view.  "How’s that?"

Danny grinned.  "Looks good.  But what’s in it for you?" he asked her, only to find that she was already gone.  In surprise, he looked all around, only to see passerbys looking at him like he was crazy.

From the roof of the store nearby, Kitsune answered him inwardly, _What’s in it for me?  Well, for one thing, an afternoon of fun for a start._

                                                **************

(FRIDAY 12:32 PM)

Still arguing amiably over whether psychics really existed, Josh and Donna were really quite ignorant of the happenings going on outside.  They did not notice that several cars had pulled up the street, parked, and various people exited, all carrying notepads and tape recorders.  They did not notice all these people convening in a tight bunch across the street from the diner.  They did not notice the approach of this crowd heading towards the entrance.

At least at first.  Josh was laughing over a well-timed, though not quite up to his standard of witty comment, when he happened to turn and look out the window.  His face paled.

Donna looked at him, and asked, "Josh, what’s the matter?  Are you going to puke up?  Because if you do, I’d appreciate it if we do not use me as a spittoon this time."

"Donna, I want you to take my next request not simply as a request.  But as a command from your boss."

"Okay..."

"Don’t look out the window."

"Why, what’s-" she asked, turning to look at the window, and stopped talking as she saw the little crowd rapidly approaching the diner’s entrance.  "Oh my God!  Josh!"

"Yeah, this looks a little bad.  By the way, what happened to taking my request as a boss’ command?"

"That’s how I usually respond to your commands."

"Good point, but we haven’t gotten anywhere and now they’re at the door."

Looking frantically around for an escape, they found none, until... "Psst!  Over here!"

"Who was that?" Donna asked, whispering.

"I don’t know.  It’s those three leather men from earlier," Josh answered.

Gesturing to them, CJ, Toby, and Sam finally called out, "Josh!  Donna!  Over here!  It’s us!"

In complete shock, both ran over to them and exclaimed, "Is that really you and what the hell are you guys doing here?"

"Never mind that, we’ve got a potential major blow-up of a scandal on our hands and you guys need to get out of here NOW before I have to come up with some creative answers when we get back to work," CJ briefed them, ever the press secretary.

"I’m pretty sure that this way leads to the kitchen and there’s a back door there," Sam said.

"Josh, Josh!" the press entity shouted as one, converging upon them.  Before one camera’s flash bulb went off, both he and Donna were through the door, though Josh did manage to throw in a, "When we get back, you guys are gonna have to explain the Harley outfits," before he was pulled in by Donna.

Slamming the door shut, Toby and Sam held it with their backs while CJ took things into her own hands.  One particularly persistent reporter shouted, "Get out of the way!  We’ve got some business to settle with him!"

"Nothing doing," she stood firm.

"Look, man, there’s nothing in it for you to keep this quiet, so why don’t you just back off."  At the word, ‘man,’ CJ’s eye twitched involuntarily.

As he was about to push his way through anyway, she pulled back her arm and took a good swing at him...and _knocked him out cold_.  In shock, the crowd dispersed, with whispers of, "Let’s weave around and get them at the back," running through them.  One stayed back, however.

"CJ??" Danny asked incredulously.

In shock herself, CJ said, "Later, we’re going to talk about this later.  For now, let’s get out of here before the other guy comes to."  She pointed with her thumb at the unconscious guy on the floor.

Hastily, all four rushed out of the restaurant, leaving both the manager and the reporter in complete and utter silence.

                                                **********

(FRIDAY 12:49 PM)

Tripping over pots and pans (and Donna getting her hair caught in a hanging colander), both continued to make their hurried escape.  Cooks turned around in surprise as they made their way to the back exit.

"I guess we both know how the President’s family feels now, huh?" Josh panted.

"Ye-Yeah!" Donna gasped.  Holding out their arms, they blasted through the door and into the bright spring sunshine, which blinded them for a few seconds.  As their eyes adjusted, they noticed the scattered reporters coming around the corner.

"C’mon!" Josh pulled her arm, and she followed, running down the alley towards Seventh Street.

"We have to get to our cars!" she called.

"Can’t!  They’re too close to us now.  We’ve got to find a much more convenient option."

Interesting choice of words, because as soon as they came right out of the alley, a shuttle bus slowed down the street and stopped right in front of them.  They looked at each other once, nodded and got in.

As they went up the steps, Donna pulled out some money out of her pocket.  Josh stopped her.  "No, I’ve got it."

"No you haven’t.  You paid for lunch, I’ve got it."

"Yeah, I did...wait..."  He scrunched his face for a moment, then said, "Yeah...we didn’t pay for lunch."

Her hand reaching for her change stopped in midair.  "What?"

"I didn’t pay for lunch," he said, embarrassed.

She yanked her change out of the driver’s hand and asked, "How did that happen?"

"Well, usually, you pay right before you leave quietly, carrying the doggie bags with you.  We didn’t have that luxury today."

"So we just left them with a few empty plates, a crowd of reporters, and no tip or money?"

"Basically, yeah."

"Josh..."

"HEY!"  They both turned towards the driver.  "You folks plannin’ to sit down anytime soon?  We’ve got a rabble of people snoopin’ all over the place and I don’t intend to stick around and find out what they’re looking for.  Thems look like FBI people, y’know what I’m sayin’?"

They both stared at him, nodding.  As they turned to the closing doors, they watched as a couple recognizable reporters came running up, too late, to the bus stop, only to watch it drive away down Seventh Street.

Sitting down with sighs of exhaustion and relief, they settled in the back seats.  "So, how long do you think we should stay on?" Josh asked.

"Until we get to our cars," Donna said.

"And what do we do from there?"

"We go home," she told him, not angrily, but rather tiredly, and a little disappointed.

He thought about making a joke, but seeing her expression, he only said, "You tired?"

"Yeah, I am.  It feels like a whole day’s gone by, huh?"

"Getting stressed?"

She laughed, remembering the conversation from the week before.  "Little bit.  You remember that?"

"Unfortunately, your fun facts always stick in my head, regardless of the amount of time I put into trying to forgetting it.  Yours and the President’s."

Still smiling, she leaned back in the seat and let her head fall back.  After a while, he did the same.  "You know, it really has been a very long day," he commented sleepily.

"Mm-hmm..."

Within minutes both were completely zonked out, unaware of the glinting eyes from the seat in front that looked at them through a camera with a lens the size of an arm.

                                                ****************

(FRIDAY 1:35 PM)

"She _what_?!" yelled CJ.

"She told me, or rather pointed out where a highly influential White House staffer was having a pleasant lunch with his assistant of a few years, and, considering the fact that it was in the middle of the day and neither of them looked like they were working, it seemed like a good story, CJ!" Danny shouted back, tit for tat.

CJ looked like she was about to respond angrily, when Sam held her back.  "You know he’s right, CJ.  It’s his job."

"Which I’m not too happy about right now because I’m being kept from performing it," Danny told them.  He paused, then asked, "And by the way, why do you still have the clip-on ring on your ear?  When we add that to your beard you look like a damn hippie."

A little embarrassed, Sam said, "Uh...I just thought it’d be nice to draw away from the congressional candidate for a day."

"But how did they feel when you did this while you were running a candidacy for Congress?" Toby asked.

"Well-they-I-I’m not going to answer that."

A silence fell on the four of them, all waiting on the curb where Josh and Donna originally met that morning.  After a moment, Danny said, "You’d think they’d come back here, right?  I mean, they parked their cars around here someplace, they have to come back for them."

"Maybe they decided to continue their date?" Sam shrugged.

"So it IS a date," Danny said.

"No, it’s not," CJ said firmly.  "As unfortunate as it is, this is not a date.  However, it is something that could lead to a date, so it is essential that nothing deter them from reaching that point."

"You know, you say that when it comes to Josh and Donna, but when it’s for me..." Danny complained.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.  Point is, we’ve got to track both of them down and fix things."

"We?  You mean YOU are going to fix things.  I’m surprised at you, CJ.  I thought you’d be trying to stop this sordid affair before it became a public scandal, which is a little too late now." Danny scolded.

"Normally, I would, but in this case, I feel there is nothing wrong with two people, albeit a boss and employee, having an innocent lunch on their well-deserved day off.  And this is NOT an affair."

"Looks like it to me," he commented.  "Anyways, look CJ, I feel for you, I really do, but all the press room people are combing the streets for those two, and I’ve got to as well.  Good luck trying to outwit all of them."  With that, he turned and walked quickly down the street towards his car.

Staring after him, CJ ordered, "Toby, Sam.  You guys stick around here and try to indiscreetly follow them if they come back.  Call me if something comes up, and I’ll do the same for you guys."  Then she jogged down the street after him.

"Wh-Why us?!" Sam shouted after her, while Toby just looked heavenward with a longing gaze on his face.

Danny was about to get into his car when he felt a tug on his shoulder.  CJ said, "Danny, what I’m about to do is going to be the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done, but considering the circumstances and your tendency to be a rat fink, I guess I have to sink this low."

"CJ, don’t..."

She took a deep breath, and said, "Danny, most of the time, I spend my life being the bitch to you guys because you are like a pack of dogs snapping me for any ounce of printable material.  Plus, I’m locked in a constant battle to throw you off the scent of whatever goes on that you shouldn’t know about.  But despite that, and how I was dressed today, I am still a woman at heart.  I like Donna.  I tolerate Josh.  I think they have a very special thing that needs nurturing.  My press secretary self is screaming at me to end this at all costs, but I can’t do that and look in the mirror ever again.  So..." she paused to catch her breath.

"So..." he prompted.

"So, I need you to stop being a jerk for a moment, find the human soul inside of you, and help me out."

"CJ, I like the idea of them together as much as the next person.  Heck, I’ve even helped that along when I could afford it, but this time...I can’t be the only one coming back to my paper with this story, you know that."

"Yes, but if you help me to get the others off track, then no one will have a story.  Then your editor won’t be any the wiser."

"Personally, CJ, I think it’s just easier for me to leave you to that yourself.  The alternative sounds like an all-day affair," he said, about to get in the car, but she grabbed his arm again.

"Wait!  Okay...I thought you might take it this way, so...I have a back up offer."

"I’m listening."

"Help me out this one time, and...and as a token of my appreciation..."

"You’ll give me an exclusive with the President?" he asked eagerly.

"I was thinking more along the lines of me saying yes to the next time you ask me out."

"How about, the next five times?  I could have gotten you to say yes to one date under the pretense of a ‘business dinner.’"

"Three, and that’s my final offer," she said firmly.

"You drive a hard bargain, you devil.  But...I accept," he said, starting to grin.

"Good," she said.  Then, pulling out a pair of sunglasses, she put them on and said, "Let’s roll."

As they walked across the street, he asked her, "Are those the sunglasses from the Harley store?"

"Yeah."

"May I ask why?"

"I like how they frame my eyes.  Now shaddup."

"Okay."

                                                ************

(FRIDAY 2:00 PM)

"Hey folks!"

Donna and Josh didn’t stir from their positions on the bus’ back seat.  Sometime during their long, long nap on the Bus Transit Expressway from Seventh Street to the FDR Memorial, Josh’s arm had slid back up on the seat, while Donna’s head had slid down until she was resting it against his shoulder, his arm resting behind her shoulder.

"HEY!" the driver shouted from the front.

Josh woke up first, rubbing his face with his one hand, and about to pull on his hair with the other, when he discovered it was pinned between Donna’s shoulder and the seat.  He didn’t want to wake her up like this, but then again, the circulation to his arm was getting dangerously slow.

"Hey Donna," he said quietly, nudging her.  "Donna, wake up.  We’re here."

She lifted up her white-blond hair from his torso, propping herself up with her arms on his chest, then sat back, rubbing sleep dust from her eyes.  "Wow, all that escaping really takes it out of you."

"Yeah," he murmured groggily.  Then, stumbling down the aisle, they got off the bus, while the driver muttered, "Heh.  Newlyweds."

As the door closed and the bus drove off, Josh looked around in bewilderment.  "Hey, wait.  This isn’t where we parked our cars."

Now fully awake, Donna realized exactly where they were.  "Um, Josh, I think we may be at the FDR Memorial."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it says ‘FDR Memorial’ on that one black wall of granite over there."

He turned to call back the bus, but alas, it was too late; it had already driven halfway down the drive and was pulling into traffic.  Helplessly, he looked back at her, only to be surprised to see her grinning.  "What’s so funny?"

She laughed, "Isn’t it amazing that the one day we decide to take off is the exact one that we shouldn’t have?  Man alive, what else could go wrong?"

"Josh, Josh!" shouted two reporters from down the drive, still on the trail as they followed the bus by car.

Josh turned to her and said, "I hate you, you know that?"

"Yeah, but I know you mean that in a good way."

Starting to run again, Josh huffed, "You know, I think we should be flattered that the universe is looking out for us today."

"Amazing how much attention it can give."

Speeding through the memorial, they came to a dead end.  Turning back, they saw the reporters three minutes away from getting caught up to them.  Looking wildly around for solace, they found none.  It looked like the day was drawing to a close for our main characters, until...

"Oy!  Donna!"

Looking to the side, they found Kitsune standing by the Fountain wall, which consisted of a wall where many half-bowls of water jutted out in increasingly larger sizes until it reached the biggest one at the top.  One that was conveniently big enough to fit two people who might be trying to escape from reporters who were determined to ruin their days.  "In here!" she shouted, pointing inside.

They looked at each other, nodded resignedly, and ran up the steps, climbing on each fountain until they reached the top one.  "Kitsune, why are you even here?" Donna demanded.

"Haha, I’m feigning ignorance," she replied glibly.  "Here, Josh, gimme your jacket."

"He handed her his tan jacket and she put it on.  "Now just stay here kiddies, until I’m back.  No monkey business while I’m not around to watch!"  With that she leaped down the steps, as Josh and Donna held their breaths and plunged into the top fountain bowl.  The pump spilling water onto their heads, they lowered themselves down until even their hair wasn’t showing.

From down below, Kitsune looked up intently, nodded in satisfaction, then turned and ran as she heard, "Josh!  Josh!  A moment of your time!" from the two bozos still chasing their prey.

"Hmph, these punks could use the exercise," she said aloud, and then ducked her head down, and charged them.

"Aagh!"  Not stopping to look back, she sped quickly through the memorial, barely dodging tourists on her path.  She could hear the voices of the reporters not too far behind her, and quickly she made a sharp turn to the right on her way out of the memorial.  The trick was to divert them long enough so that at the point she let them catch up to her, it would give a pretense that Josh and Donna could have escaped anywhere in that time.

Sprinting past the various walls and fountains, she saw the memorial building and as a tourist couple exited, she slipped in through the door, leaving the reporters to slam into it as the door closed narrowly behind her.  That didn’t stop them for too long though, as they were quickly in and after her again.  She wondered exactly how long she had been running.  Maybe ten minutes?  She looked back and saw the two punks still after her, but also...the shuttle bus coming down the street?  She grinned.

Purposely now, she paused in front of three corridors, then chose the middle one, one that would lead directly to a dead end.  As she approached, she lowered her head, glad that they were so caught up in chasing, they never thought of looking closer to see exactly who they were chasing.  She halted in front of the dead end, her back still turned to them, and as they caught up panting, one reporter gasped out, "Josh Lyman, is it true that the woman you were seen with earlier is your assistant, and if so, is there a special reason why you two are spending the day off work together?"

She grinned, then deepening her voice, she answered, "Well..."  Then she turned around, threw her head back to reveal her face, and pointed out the window, "You might want to catch up to him over there to ask that question."  They looked at the direction she was pointing, only to see the retreating shuttle bus.  Jaws dropped, they looked back at her.  Cackling wickedly, she said, "Too bad!"

                                                ***********

(FRIDAY 2:28 PM)

Still bathing in the cold (and most likely bacteria-infested) water of the top fountain, Josh and Donna rested their backs against the granite side, heads still lowered as far as possible without having their mouths underwater.  Donna’s hair floated randomly on the water.

"So, tell me: why exactly is your roommate here?" Josh inquired, wiping water fruitlessly from his face.

"I don’t know.  She was acting all interested this morning, and I was really surprised to see her here too."

"Do you think it’s smart to leave her to those guys on her own?"

"If it was anybody else, I’d say no, but since it’s Kitsune, I’m sure she’ll be fine.  She has a knack for handling trouble," Donna told him.

"And a good thing too," said a voice above them, and they spluttered around in surprise at seeing Kitsune standing right there.  She grinned, and informed them, "The reporters are thoroughly pissed that they might have been chasing a fake all day, and are now following a shuttle bus back to Georgetown as I speak."

"How’d you manage that?" Donna asked, shivering as she got out of the fountain.

Thin eyes glinting, she replied, "Well, I’d say it was all due to clever charm and guiles."

"You want to know what I’d say?" Josh asked dryly, glancing at the open-mouthed tourists as they stared at the two people who seemingly rose up from the fountain out of nowhere.

"Not particularly, Joshie-boy, but it’s witty I’m sure," she answered cheerfully.  "Here’s your jacket.  Apparently reporters don’t recognize you by your handsome looks, but rather by your very distinctive jacket, which explains why there were conned so easily."  She handed him his jacket, but he shook his head.

"Give it to her," he pointed his head towards Donna.  "She definitely needs it more than I do, considering what she’s wearing and how transparent it is when moist."

Donna looked down in shock at the complete sheerness of her wet blouse, and worse still, the absence of her bra.  "Ah!" she gasped in horror, and snatched the jacket, covering herself quickly, at the same time cuffing Josh in the shoulder.  "Pervert!"

"What was that for?  I was the one who told you so you didn’t just flash every tourist we came across!"

"Yeah, but to do that, you had to look."

"Ah, get a room will ya?" Kitsune leered.  "Anyways, let’s get to my car.  It’s parked over there," she said pointing.

After walking and shivering for a while, Donna asked, "Well, now that that’s all over, I think this is the perfect time to be asking you exactly what are you doing here?"

Slightly embarrassed, but nonetheless still cheerful, Kitsune said, "Well, it wouldn’t do any good to leave you two by yourselves.  I’d feel responsibility if anything happened."

"And what did you think would happen?" Josh demanded.

"Nothing," she replied quickly.  "But it’s still nice to have a chaperone.  I think I proved my point on that subject."

Rolling her eyes, and knowing that there was no way to win this argument considering the situation, Donna numbly got into the car as Josh got in on the other side.

After driving for a while, Josh noticed that Kitsune kept looking back over her shoulder, but not at the both of them.  Also, she kept glancing at her side mirrors.  "What is it?" he asked her.

"That one car...it’s been following us for almost fifteen minutes now."  He looked behind him to see that the same car that pulled behind them in the parking lot was still behind them now.  And if he wasn’t mistaken, there were...

"Those two guys from before are in there!" he exclaimed.

"I thought so," she said grimly.  Eyes narrowed even further (if that was possible), she muttered, "Fasten your seatbelts, kiddies, we’re in for a ride!"

"Kitsune!  What are you going to-" Donna was interrupted as the force of whiplash plowed her face into the cushioned seat in front of her.  Engine roaring, tires screaming, Kitsune weaved her car in and out of lanes, trying to gain an edge, the chaser car close behind the whole time.

The loud chorus of beeping horns pounding in her head, Donna mumbled, "Why does it have to come to this?!"

Still dazed from the abrupt take-off, Josh asked her, "Um, does she know what she’s doing?"

"I think so.  She must have gotten experience from that ambulence incident."

"What-" he started, but she shook her head at him.

"Long story."

Barely under the speed limit, the car sped past one close-call red light after another, but despite all her tricks, the chaser was still never far behind.  Thinking how ironic that the music that was playing (Dueling Banjos) seemed to fit their situation like a soundtrack, Donna called out over the noise, "Kitsune, we can’t keep this up forever, you know!"

"Yeah, but we can sure do it for a really long time!" she called out in good spirit.

Josh spoke to Donna in a low voice, "Does she ever get worried?"

"Sometimes when the booze runs low, but even then she just bums some money off me and goes to the liquor store."

He paused for a minute before telling her, "You always get the interesting friends."

"Yeah," she laughed.

"Hey, shut up back there a minute," Kitsune called over her shoulder.  "I’m gonna try something and it’s going to be both dangerous and risky, so I need my concentration."

"Wait.  Wait, wait wait," both Josh and Donna scrambled to look over her shoulder.  Ahead, there was an intersection where the lights were turning yellow, but this time, a long tow truck was about to cross.  Almost immediately, both knew exactly what she was planning.  "Kitsune!  You can’t be thinking of-" Donna began.

"Hold on, kids, this may get a tad messy!"  And with that, Kitsune pressed on the accelerator, and sped towards the now red light at the same time the tow truck began to cross almost right in front.  Gripping on to the armrests, Josh and Donna braced themselves as Kitsune swerved to the left of the oncoming truck.  Pressing her eyes shut together, Donna lost her hold on the armrest and toppled over onto Josh, their still damp bodies now completely leaned on one side.  Holding on to him, eyes still closed, she couldn’t help but laugh, making him grin as their car swerved right and sped down the street, tow truck honking behind and blocking their chaser from following.

"Well, that didn’t go unnoticed," Kitsune commented as they heard police sirens from far behind, but coming ever closer.  She looked back.  "Okay, here’s the plan: I’m going to get arrested, but that doesn’t mean you guys can’t still have some ‘fun.’  Let’s just pull over here, shall we?"

She pulled over to a corner of a busy shopping area.  The sirens were louder now.  "C’mon, get out of here.  You guys have given me more fun today than I thought possible, but I think it’s time to go.  You guys are too much for me."

Opening the door on her side, and getting out, Josh not far behind.  Donna said, "I’m going to get you for this and I owe you one, Kitsune."

"So tell me something new," she laughed, driving off.  And just in time, as they saw a couple police cars not far behind.

Donna turned to Josh and said, "Well, this might sound dull after all that, but what say we start on my shopping spree now?  I think this would be the best time since apparently my clothes are inappropriate and we can all do without me getting arrested for indecent exposure."

"Especially since you narrowly avoided getting arrested for accomplice in a speeding," he added.

"You and me both buster."

"Alright, where do you want to start?" he asked resignedly

She pointed down the street.  "I know some great places over there."

"When you say, ‘some,’ specifically, what exactly do you mean?"

"Around a dozen boutiques, all with beady eyed women that will look at you and sneer behind your back about how doting you are on your girlfriend."

"You enjoy this, don’t you?" he asked, groaning out loud.

"Oh yeah."

                                                **********

(FRIDAY 2:19, at the same time)

After spending a better part of two hours randomly running around town, Sam finally panted out, "Hey, Toby, this isn’t exactly what I was planning to do on my one day off from the convention."

"Neither is it mine, but when I tried to tell CJ that, she got...snippy."

"Which is code word for she threatened to kick your ass."

"Kind of, yeah."

Seeing three reporters hanging around Mabel’s still, they hurried to catch up.  It had been a grueling task, chasing after each and every single one of the two dozen press people and convincing them to get off Josh and Donna’s backs.

"Well, well," one of them said as Sam and Toby approached.  "Mr. Ziegler, tell me: have you heard of this little tryst that’s been going on behind your back?"

"Actually, it’s not a tryst, it’s just a well-deserved day off for both of them," Toby told them.

"So you DO know about it.  Care to comment?" another said, holding out her tape recorder.

"Look," Sam intervened.  "This story...it’s not going to get you anywhere because those two aren’t here, and they aren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, and even if they did, it’s nothing worth printing anyway."

"We’ll let our editors decide that for themselves," yet another one said.

Sam sighed, knowing he would have to once again fall onto his old crutch again.  "How about...instead of this story, you can have a much better and far more press-worthy one?"

"You’ve piqued our interest.  What is it?"

"Well, you know the Sunbelt Democrats’ Convention?"

"Yeah?  That thing is the hardest thing to get into besides the Oval Office.  You mean you can get us in?"

"Not only that, I can get you into the ballroom where the policy strategies are being held over thousand dollar dinners.  It’s a media bonanza," he encouraged them.

They turned to each other, considering it, turned back to him, and nodded.  With a sigh of resignation, he spent the next ten minutes handing over the date and address of the building.  After they left, he let out a disgusted sound.  "Well, that’s that.  I think CJ and Danny are going to handle Chris."

"So, how many people are showing up to this no-longer-private dinner/strategy planning session?"

"I think about half the press room staff."

"Excellent."  With that, both of them headed back down the street, their twin stubbles glinting slightly in the overhead sun.

                                                **********

(FRIDAY 4:23 PM)

Inside the Gracie-Lou Freebush Boutique, Donna was trying on yet another dress at half-half off, when Josh finally blew up.  "Donna, can we just face the fact that there are no dresses to be had for less than twenty dollars and be done with it?"

"No, Josh.  I’m a bargain hunter at heart, and I know there is a steal to be had somewhere here."

"That’s what you said four boutiques ago.  What happened?"

"Sometimes it takes some time for the actual steal to catch up to my hunch."

"Hey, I know a great boutique we can go to where all you can find are bargains."

"Hmm, where?"

"Le Mart du K.  And while we’re there, we can buy some designer Martha Stewart towels."

Ignoring him as she had done for the past hour or so, she pulled out a very pretty strand of beads.  Circular and flat, they had a rounded red center with golden edges surrounding it like a crescent moon.  "Hey, this is pretty nice," she exclaimed.  "And I do believe that it is on sale."

"Yes, dear," said the beady eyed old woman beside her.  "It’s called the Venus Love-Me Chain and is a designer item created Francoise Villon in Paris.  I believe it’s marked down now to $18.95."

"Hey, if I pay the tax then we would just barely make it," Donna said happily.

"I’m going to the men’s rooms," he said in a dead voice.  Turning to the old saleslady, he asked, "Where is it, by the way?"

"Right in the back next to lady’s underwear," she pointed.

"Donna, I might be a while..."

"Josh."  That was all, but her whole message was conveyed in that mono-syallabic word.

"Yeah, come back after I’m done, no lagging to watch the underwear, got it," he muttered.  "Can’t get even a little bit of fun here."

As his back retreated into the forest of racks, Donna tied the chain around her waist and looked at herself in the three-way mirror.  She thought it was nice, but... _It would help if I had more than twenty dollars to spend_ , she thought.  _Maybe I ought to go to "Le Mart du K" after all.  I might be able to afford a full outfit there._   From behind, she heard a loud noise and turned around.

A man with a scruffy beard and a very dirty appearance, sidled into the store, shouting at the top of his lungs, "The US government is a bunch of liars!!  They are poisoning our minds with their Campbell’s soup and toothpaste!  Crazy, I tell you!  Do you hear me?"

_I think they can hear him in Alaska_ , Donna thought.  She noticed that he had an American flag wrapped all around him, like a toga.  Still shouting, spittle flew from his mouth as he protested, "You people with your credit cards are contributing to a massive totalitarian government takeover of freedom and liberty!  They know where you are!" he hisses conspiratorially to a passing customer, who fled.

The old saleslady huffed herself up and said, "Now listen!  I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave.  We reserve the right to refuse customers and we are refusing you.  Please leave," she told him puffily.

He was about to say something angry, Donna could tell, so she stupidly came up to him without thinking and said, "Excuse me, but I happen to know my way around the government, so to speak, and I was thinking, maybe we can talk this over and clear up the misunderstanding you’ve got here, and-"

Her words were cut short as she saw that out of his flag toga somewhere, he pulled out a gun and was holding it straight at her heart, which had suddenly stopped.  The saleslady and the other customers gasped and ducked instinctively, making Donna the only manageable target in the store.

"Did you say you worked for the government?" he said so low, she could hardly hear.

"Um...no..." she stammered, "I just said I know some people over there.  But we’re not that good friends anyway," she added quickly.

"YOU’RE IN WITH THEM!!" he snarled in her face, his dragon breath nearly causing her to puke up a little.  The sadist was on a roll however, and not a little bit demented.  "TYRANTS, ALL OF YA!!  Well, now, though.  We’re going to have one less tyrant today though, aren’t we."

Almost sure her life was over, she thought she saw movement at the corner of her eye.  It was Josh, and he had snuck up behind the guy while he was screaming about tyrants and whatnot, and was about to do something.  What that was, she didn’t know, but she knew that her role was to keep him talking.

"You know," she raised her voice.  "Those are big words for a man who is holding me at gunpoint.  How are YOU not a tyrant?"  She almost kicked herself after saying it.  _Nice job, Donna.  Why don’t you just say, "Shoot me, I can take it!  I’m freaking Superman!_

To her surprise, he actually answered.  "Well, now, that’s a good question.  But I ain’t going to answer it.  You know why?"

From behind, Josh hesitated a little bit.  His mind was screaming, _NOW, for the love of God, this is the moment!_  But his body wouldn’t move.  The sight of the gun reminded him of that one day...the day when after the town meeting guns assaulted the area and due to the panic of another person, he was pushed into the line of fire and shot in the chest.  Stanley’s warnings floating through his head, he tried to control his own panic as he felt the bitter taste of adrenaline welling up in his mouth.  Struggling, he still couldn’t make himself move an inch.

When Donna didn’t answer, the Sadist Man continued, "Cause I figure, what’s the point if you’re gonna be dead anyway?"  He grinned nastily and her bad feeling got a whole lot worse.

He raised the gun, and his finger moved.  Her eyes pressed shut, her addled mind still had the guts to make her mouth say, "Wait...this isn’t funny."

"Oh, I think it is very funny," he told her, all of his broken and yellow teeth showing.  She noticed there was a long tear in his flag toga down near the leg.  "It’s funny the things people say when the stress gets to them..."  Not moving the gun’s aim from her heart, he grabbed her arm roughly, so tight it felt like her circulation was cut off.

"Ow!" she gasped from the throb.

The sound of her crying out was too much for him, and galvanized Josh out of fear and into action.  Leaping forward, he tackled Sadist Man from below and pulled him down by the legs.  A little scream of relief escaped from her mouth, and she too got ready for action...except she had nothing to work with.  Her hands flailed on empty air, grappling for something that might serve to cause pain.  Sadist Man was apparently very strong, as he escaped from Josh’s grasp and struggled up, gun still in his hand.

With no time to lose, she pulled on the only weapon handy: the Venus Love-Me Chain that was designed by Francoise Villon in Paris and was marked down from a resale value of $50 to $18.95.  Flinging it backwards, she gave a loud shout to distract his attention, "Venus!  Love-Me Chain!"  And then she LET FLY.

There was an almost humming sound as the chain sped through the air and snapped at his right hand, causing him to yelp in pain and drop the gun.  About to bend down and pick it back up, he failed when Josh kicked it out of the way and took a swing.

He missed.

Sadist Man grinned.  "Heh.  You town boys ain’t too good at a street fight, ain’t ya?"

"No.  I’m more used to economically discriminating against other people," Josh said, backing up a little.

Without warning, Sadist Man jumped and swung at Josh’s chest, catching him right in the abdomen.  The breath knocked out of him, Josh was caught off guard as Sadist Man pulled him into a chokehold.  With even less air, his face started turning blue and his cheeks puffed out in choking gasps, his hands grabbing onto the leathery arms around his neck.  "You got yourself in too deep, boy," Sadist Man hissed into his ear.  "Guess you got to drown now."

"Maybe not," Donna called out, and swung the chain again, light catching on the golden crescents.  The chain slapped his face so hard it left a beaded mark, and he stumbled back.

Taking deep gulps of lovely air, Josh faced him again, and said, "You know, I usually hate it when girls do this, but now I kinda see the attraction."  With that, he lifted up his leg and gave a nice painful, kick to Sadist Man’s happy place.  Howling with pain, he grabbed them reflexively, giving Josh the time to slug him one in the same place he got punched.  Caught up in the moment, he didn’t even feel the stinging pain in his knuckles as he got ready to swing again.

He missed his chance.  Donna had grabbed a weird golden boomerang decorated with stars (which was actually the Lancome Moonlight Destiny hair clip sold for a resale value of $23.59) and flung it at Sadist Man’s head.  BAM.  Seeing stars, Sadist Man dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, his flag toga askew.  Josh pinned him down by kneeling on his back and pulling his arms back, just like he’d seen Secret Service agents do about a dozen times.  It felt pretty darn cool.

Pulling out the Chain, Donna circled it around Sadist Man’s arms and knotted it tightly, causing the beads to cut into his skin.  Both of them stood up, breathing heavily and looking down at him, completely out cold.  Breathing simultaneous sighs of relief, they looked at each somewhat soberly before breaking into nervous laughter.  When they  were done and looked around, they saw that the store had emptied, and even the old saleslady was long gone while they had been battling with Sadist Man.  "You know, it just occurred to me that while we were kicking his ass, no one raised a finger to help us," commented Donna.

"Who needed their help?  We could have taken on three of him and still emerged victors," he declared.  No sooner had he spoken, police sirens began to blare from the distance.  "I could learn to get really tired of hearing that all day."

"Starting to sound like a broken record, huh?"

"Yeah.  Let’s get out of here before we spend the rest of our day off under third degree."

Leaving the store as if nothing happened, it was difficult for them to continue walking down the street and not laugh.  The whole day’s events were so wild it was almost surreal, passing strangers and stores as if they hadn’t just spent the day escaping reporters, being car chased, and apprehending some insane anarchist who had nearly killed them.  And the day was young

Stopping suddenly, Josh reached for her arm and held it up.  "When he grabbed you then, did he hurt you?"

"Really, Josh, it was nothing," she protested.  "He barely held on for a minute before you rammed him like a quarterback.  Remind me to thank you for that, by the way."

"No problem," he muttered, still looking over her arm.  When he turned over her wrist, he saw several dark blue and black spots starting to swell up right near her hand.  He paused before saying, "It’s too late now, but I really should have given him a few dozen kicks in the ribs before we left."

"It really doesn’t hurt that much," she told him.  She looked at the side of his arm.  "Anyway, you’re the one who’s hurt," she said, pointing to a long cut on the side of his right arm, above the elbow.  Apparently, during the skirmish, one of the sharp edges from the clothes racks had torn a gash through his shirt and into his skin.  Without his thick jacket, it was not a difficult task.  It wasn’t bleeding badly, but it looked pretty bad.

He glanced at it, and said, "Huh.  Didn’t even notice it."

"I guess after bullet holes, a thing like that is a scratch."

"Yeah, I can honestly say I’ve had worse."

"Well, it won’t do for you to leave it like that," she said thoughtfully.  After thinking for a minute, she pulled out the white hair ribbon she had taken off that morning, undid the knot, and tied it around his cut, covering it up completely.

"No, really, you don’t have to-"

"Can we not go through this conversation every single time you get an ouchie?  It really gets old after a while."

He stopped talking, and watched as she wrapped it tightly, and then knotted it into a small bow.  He could get used to this, having a cute girl fuss over him all the time.

From a distance, Kitsune stood up from her kneeling position with her camera.  She patted it lovingly, the new digital Canon Rebel that had cost her a whole life’s savings to buy, but such a bargain now.  She grinned.  "Donna is so lucky to have such a doting friend like me.  She’ll regret it later when she comes back from this with nothing to show for it except for wet shoes and a missing hair ribbon."

                                                **********

(FRIDAY 4:17 PM, at the same time)

CJ and Danny had finally caught up to Chris, who was at that very moment calling up every link around town she had to find out where Josh and Donna had gone off to.  Besides Danny, she was the oldest and most experienced White House press reporter, and no country bumpkin as she told them.  "Look, I don’t know how she got you to soften up, Danny Boy, but I have my editor to please and no story to do it with.  I can’t give up on this."

"Chris, this isn’t even a story," he argued.  "It’s a harmless business dinner between a White House staffer and his aide.  They probably go out to lunch like this everyday while we’re in the press briefing for all we know."

"Not with her and him dressed like THAT they don’t.  I know date clothes when I see them, hell, I’ve worn them once or twice."

"That many," CJ muttered.

Ignoring that comment, she continued, "This is a definite story to work with, and it smells like a real good one at that.  I might actually get a smile out of my editor for once."

"Less a smile, and more of a maniacal evil leer," CJ told her, losing her temper.

She shrugged.  "Hey, I don’t pick who pays me.  I just do whatever it takes to keep him paying me."

About to say something biting, CJ opened her mouth, but was cut off by Danny.  "Alright, Chris, you want a story?  I’ll give you one of my back-ups if you’ll just let off on the others."

"Say, what is this?  Why are you so eager to help cover up the White House’s tracks anyway?"

"You could say coercion, but I’d say I kind of blackmailed them into it."

"Whatever you say.  What’s this story of yours?"

He leaned over and whispered into her ear.  Her expression brightening visibly, she said, "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"How’d you get this?"

"Wasn’t easy.  How about it?"

"You got yourself a deal, Danny Boy.  But don’t screw me over; if you print a story of your own about this then you’ll have me to watch your back for, in addition to Miss Big Bird here."

Sputtering in anger, CJ was once again cut off as Danny said, "Thanks Chris, see you later."

After she left, CJ declared, "I could have slaughtered her if I wanted to."

"Now that would make a great story, on so many different levels," he commented.

"Well, if Toby and Sam are done, then we’ve got them all," she said jubilantly.  "Good work, Danny.  I’ll see you back at the House," she said turning, only to be stopped in her tracks when he spoke.

"CJ..." he said, grinning.

Smile frozen, she said, "Danny?"

"You know, I happen to be free tonight.  How about you and I go out to dinner and discuss today’s events in more detail?"

_Must hold back...fist...of...death..._ she thought.  Smile creaking, she said stiffly, "Sure."

"Wow.  Way to be docile there, CJ," he teased.

"Just tell the damn time you’ll be picking me up!"

                                                **************

(FRIDAY 5:38 PM)

Down the stretch of Smithsonian museums there is a long broad park area between the historic buildings on either side.  It was on one of the benches on the grassy knolls that they wearily flopped into, completely exhausted.

"Hey Josh, when you treat a girl out to a day full of fun, you really pull out all the stops, huh?"

"You know me.  I am a man of occasion."

"Ugh, let’s not start that again.  By the way, you still owe me a shopping spree," she reminded him.

"Under twenty dollars," he reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah.  I suppose, considering the circumstances, we can do that another time."

"You mean, you want to turn in?" he asked surprised.

"Well...I’m kind of scared to go on.  Who knows what will happen if we continue the way we are today?  We might end up running into Aristide or the Taliban.  I mean, I know we can handle them, but the FBI and CIA might feel a little bad and I can live without that."

"But, I still haven’t treated you out to dinner yet," he argued.

"No offense, but I think I’ve had enough of burgers and fries today," she said jokingly.

"Hey, I’ll take you to a really good place this time," he promised.

She smiled a little, and said, "Are you sure?  Because I’m starting to think that our idea of "good" may be a little off each other’s scales."

"Hey, you can trust me."

"Okay.  I guess I’ll believe you...this time."

"Well, let’s not get too emotional about this, shall we?"

"I just can’t seem to dry my eyes."  She laughed, and they both stood up.  He held out his elbow for her, she put her hand through his arm, and they both started back to Georgetown.

                                                ***********

(FRIDAY 6:24 PM)

"Le Maison Rouge?" Donna asked, looking at the fancy red neon letters.

He nodded proudly.  "Yup.  This place is actually a four star restaurant and has been recommended by many internet critics as the place to go when you want to meet stuffy French waiters who will spit in your food."

"It’s almost like being in the actual country."

"I know.  Isn’t it great?"

"Josh, this place must cost a fortune," she protested, only to stop when she saw what he was holding up.  "A discount coupon?"

"I got it as a gift from...well, it doesn’t matter who.  All I know is that with this, we can say goodbye to half the bill."

"You big romantic, you," she murmured demurely.  "Shall we go in?"

He nodded, and they passed through the glass doors into the brightly lit room.  From the ceiling, crystal chandeliers were suspended on golden chains, glittering in rainbow sparkles.  Fancy waiters walked about the place, carrying trays upon which sparkling glasses of champagne were placed.  The tables were covered with cream colored tablecloths, and a blood-red rose was placed in a glass vase at each table.

Approaching the maitre’d standing at a podium, Josh told him, "Lyman, party of two...uh...we have a reservation for 6:30?"

"Ahh... _oui, monsieur, s’il vous plais, allez viens ici._ "

"Huh?"

The waiter held out his arm in the direction of the dining area, indicating where to go.  " _Vous allez la-bas,_ " he said, " _et la, vous trouvez un autre serveur qui vas vos aides._ "

Staring at him for a moment, Josh finally said, "I think you’re trying to tell me something..."

Donna pulled him into the dining area.  "He’s saying, ‘Get over there and into your seats before I punch your face.’"

"Hey, I can take him.  He’s weak sauce compared to the happy little chatterbox we met earlier today."

"Keep in mind that you had a bit of help," she reminded him dryly.  "So...you got a reservation for this place...must have had a hard time getting one on such short notice."

"Not at all, because I actually did remember our day off and reserved the place a WEEK ago," he said shortly.  What he didn’t tell her was that he almost spent a better part of an hour bribing the owner to kick off another couple at that time slot to get his own reservation.  He changed the subject, "How’d you know what that guy was saying anyway?  It sounded like he was blowing his nose to me."

"Because, I told you that I minored in French in college."

"But that was a lie."

"Yeah, but I still took the class.  I know my way around a French restaurant."

When they came to their table, Josh actually pulled out her chair for her.  "Hey, I can get used to this," she grinned.

"Don’t," he told her.

"Yeah, I’m not holding my breath."

Before sitting down, she pulled her hair back, so that she didn’t just sit on her hair.  Watching this, he commented, "You know, your hair is a lot longer than it used to be."

Surprised, she looked up at him.  "Yeah.  I used to trim it, but I started letting it grow out a year ago...what do you think?"

"I think it’s great.  What made you change your mind about keeping it short?"

"Hmm...well, this guy I knew once told me that he thought I’d look nice with longer hair, so..."

"So you grew it out to please him.  Gotcha.  Who was it?  Cliff?  Jack?"

"Well, you could say he was kind of a jerk," she said smiling.

"I knew it.  Well, at least he made a good decision.  I like it longer, but that’s just because I like it personally, not because I agree with either one of those guys."

"Well, I’m glad you like it.  Because you’re the one who told me to grow it out."

"But I thought you said he was a...ah," he said, the idea dawning on him.  "Wait, when did I ever tell you that?"

"Well, it was during one of those times when you once again didn’t listen to me about your not being able to handle more than two drinks and you were drunk and I was once again cleaning you up before the President fired you for indecency and that’s when you told me."

"You listened to me while I was drunk?"

"Hey, the best people to trust are drunks and children," she said shrugging.

Embarrassed, he said, "Well, it looks good."

"Thanks."  With that, both of them looked out the window right by their table.

Outside, they could see the sun setting over Washington DC, a breathtaking view of a liquid light sphere that settled among clouds of purple and crimson.  "Wow..." Donna breathed, eyes shining.

"I know," Josh said, also caught in the spell.

"We never noticed how nice sunsets were here because around the same time the sun was setting, we were flying around the bullpen doing highly important stuff," she said, thoughtfully.

"I guess we don’t get that much time off, huh?"

"Yeah.  That’s a shame."

"Yeah," he agreed.  Both trailed off, and picked up their menus.  "Um..." he said uncertainly.

"Hmm?" she asked, apparently focused on her menu.

"Ah, nothing."  The whole flippin’ thing was in French.  He really regretted not taking her to the nearest Wendy’s and get it over with.  Anyway, he figured it didn’t really matter; he wasn’t a picky eater.  Closing his eyes, he waved his finger around and stopped it over, " _Les Escargots a Cavotte avec un Champignon Noir._ "  Sounded fancy enough.

He had no sooner closed his menu when the waiter came and asked, " _Vous etes fini?_ "

" _Oui,_ " said Donna almost perfectly.  " _Moi, je prends des Poules au Riz et des Crudites Legumes_ ," she said sweetly and handed him the menu.

" _Tres bien.  Et monsieur, vous etes choisi aussi?_ "

"Um...wee.  Je take...uh...this...sil voos plays," he said, trying to add an accent, only to have it come out Australian.  He could feel Donna shaking from laughter.

" _Bon, j’avais donner vos nourriture tout de suite.  Au moment_ ," he said, and the waiter left.

"Josh, what did you order?" Donna asked curiously, still grinning at him.

"Well...I don’t think that’s any of your business."

"Oh Lord, you don’t know what you ordered do you?"

"I know it’s French."

"Nice work, Sherlock.  I can see YOU were trained by the world’s greatest detective."

"Hey, enough of that, I’m treating you out so you might at least give me some respect."  She stared at him like he was crazy.  "Okay, respect might be too much to ask for, but how about decent courtesy?...No?  Okay, how about restrained politeness?...No?  Can you at least not throw water in my face tonight?"

"I make no guarantees," she warned him.  With light banter and somewhat interesting conversation (made up mostly of Donna’s Fun Facts and Josh’s Witty Comments), the half-hour sped by and their food came almost too late, because both were starving for food and an interruption to the "fascinating" discourse.

Donna’s plate was a beautifully sautéed chicken nestled on top of a bed of wild rice flecked with herbs, and besides that there was a steaming plate of vegetables that was covered with some kind of scrumptious goldenrod sauce.  Josh’s however...

"Um...excoosez-moi," Josh tapped the waiter on the shoulder.

" _Oui_?"

"Je believe there is a snail problem-OW!" he yelled as Donna kicked him under the table.

" _Actuallement, nous avons voudrais deux glasses de l’eau minerale, s’il vous plais_ ," she said.

" _Ah, oui, bien sur.  A moment_."  With that, he was up and away.

Rubbing his ankle, Josh griped, "What was that for?  I was trying to tell him they obviously have a snail problem in their kitchen."

"No they don’t."

"Then why is there a plate full of snails covered in glue with a black strip of...something on the side?"

"Because that’s what you ordered."

"I’m pretty sure it isn’t."

"I’m pretty sure it is.  Let me see the menu."  Gingerly grabbing the menu and passing it carefully over the table, Josh continued to stare at the death plate before him.  "Yeah...this is what you ordered right?" she asked, pointing at the item he had gestured to.

"Yeah."

"Uh-huh, he brought you your order all right.  _Escargots_ is snails, and I think the _Champignon Noir_ is a type of delectable vegetable skin that’s flambéd and then sprinkled over with herbs."

"I knew we should have gone to Wendy’s," he muttered under his breath.

"And miss this fun?  I don’t think so," she grinned.

"Sometimes, I really despise you, you know that?"

"Yes, because you told me that at least three times today."

"I mean every word," he declared.

"No you don’t," she said through a mouthful of chicken and rice.

"Yes I do, and I hope you choke on that," he told her.

"I’d be more worried about yourself."

From a corner of the room, Kitsune examined the digital preview of the picture she just took, a square showing Donna laughing at a shocked Josh, who was staring down at the white shells on his plate.  "I am good," she said to herself.

_"Ahem!  Madame?"_ said a disgruntled waiter coming right towards her.

"Geez, I can’t catch a break today, can I?" she told him.  Blow a raspberry his way, she sprinted down the aisles, careful to stick to the far end of the restaurant, and flew through the glass doors.

                                                ***********

(FRIDAY 7:39 PM)

"Ah...that was good," Donna said, stretching back luxuriously.

"Speak for yourself," Josh snapped, peeved.  Swallowing the snails was a task, and he filled himself on more water than food.  He refused to touch the black strip of whatever it was, even after she had taken a piece herself and proven it would not mutate him.  He declared she was immune to those kinds of things because she grew up in an area where mutant vegetables were plentiful.

She looked at his frown and smiled a little.  "Hey, you want to get some dessert?  Get your mind off the food?"

_That_ brightened him up.  "Sounds good.  You order," he commanded.

"Okay," she grinned.  Calling the waiter, she ordered _un crème brulee_ , and as he sped off to fetch it, she told Josh, "It’s this really delicious dessert where they take some butterscotch kind of cream and they cover it with molasses and cinnamon and fire it over with a blowtorch."

"Sounds fun."

When a large dish of the stuff was brought to the table, they took their spoons and dug in.  Josh had to admit, the stuff was pretty good.  When there was only one last spoonful, Donna smiled at an excellent idea.  She spooned it up and said, "Hey, say ‘Ahh...’"

"You do not know how much of a turn-on that is right now," he told her, seriously turned on.

"Hey, you gonna leave a girl hanging when she’s feeding you?" she asked playfully, thinking wickedly of the moment when she would pull it back and eat it herself.

He leaned forward, mouth open (feeling stupid, but still liking it the whole time), and she was about to pull it back when a voice by her said, "Well, this is a nice little scene."

"Eep!" she said.  Or at least something like it.  Whatever the sound was, it was surprised at the sight of both CJ and Danny standing there, both dressed pretty nicely.  "C-CJ!  What are you doing here...again?"

"Well, _someone_ has to check up on you."

"And CJ thought the best person would of course be herself," Danny added.

"Hey, aren’t you going to clean that off him," CJ asked, pointing to Josh.  Donna turned, and saw that in her surprise, she had gotten the cream all over his face.  

"Ah!  Josh, I’m so sorry!" she gasped, and choked from laughter at the same time.  CJ was also laughing, and Danny was chuckling along as well.

"Haha, I’m so glad everyone can get a laugh at my expense," Josh raised his voice.  "Why doesn’t someone just drop a glass of water on me while we’re at it?"

With that, one of the waiters nearby rushed past and in his haste, stumbled and dropped not one, but several glasses of ice water over Josh’s head.  Water dripping form his flattened hair, he didn’t even have the energy to speak.

Clutching their sides from laughter, Danny and CJ walked off, CJ calling back, "You kids are too much for me.  Donna, you better clean him up before he starts firing everybody in the restaurant."  With that, they both settled down in a very far away booth, safe from Josh’s wrath.

Wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, Donna took all her napkins and wiped off the watery cream off his face, and patted his damp hair and shirt, the whole time he had recovered and was starting his tirade of very interesting four-letter words and threats.  She listened, still coughing a laugh every few seconds as he continued to rage.  Finally, she had to stop him at one point.  "Hey, close your mouth a minute," she told him as she wiped his face with a freshly delivered wad of napkins, brought by the same stuttering waiter who apologized constantly for the accident.

He shut his mouth sullenly, and was distracted by how close she was to him, her hand pulling back his wet hair and wiping his face.  He could feel his pulse climb a few points, and was about to say something, but stopped when she stood up.  "Well, I think that’s the best we can do now.  Wanna go outside and let the air dry you off?"

"Um...yeah."  On the table, he left a soggy discount coupon, some bills, and a few bits of change for a tip.  Without saying anything, she added a few bills of her own for the tip, and they both left wordlessly, walking down the street in the bluish darkness.

After a while, Josh stopped her right outside a large glowing boutique.  "Wait, I, uh, have to use the bathroom a minute."

"I have a feeling it was something you ate."

"That combined with the feeling of cold water right afterwards is enough to make any person have to go, and go quickly.  Wait here, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, get going before you have an ‘accident.’"  She waved him off and watched as he went inside.  Shaking her head and sighing a little, she turned around and looked at the sky.  She never noticed how clear the skies here were.  Every night after they left work, she was always more pre-occupied on her bed and how to get there quickest.  Now...

_I...I kind of wish it could stay like this...for a long time._   It was hard to think that she would probably have to go back to work tomorrow, to make up for today.  She knew that Josh wouldn’t make her, but he would go himself to atone for today’s sins, and she couldn’t leave him by himself.  Sometimes she thought that her babying him was just conditioning a learned helplessness, but it was kind of endearing to see him struggle with the little things, while at the same time planning out the future of the nation.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt someone tap on her shoulder.  She turned to see Josh standing there, grinning like a guy who had just won a very big prize.  "What are you smirking about?"

He didn’t say anything, but rather he held out a flat, blue velvety case, about seven inches long.  She took it from him, and asked, "Josh, what-?"

"I’m not gonna tell ya.  Just open it."

Silently, she carefully lifted the lid and gave a gasp of surprise.  In the bright light of the boutique, she could see, nestled on white satin, a beautiful new hairbow, a fine white silk thing.  Tied onto the knot, so that only the sides of the ribbon were sticking out, was a glass crystal brooch shaped into a flat heart, bordered by clear white beads.  In the light of the store, it glittered and shone.  Underneath the ribbon, she could see three strands of different colored beads and crystals and charms, all tied onto the bottom of the brooch.

"Josh...this must have cost you...I can’t even think how much..."

"As it turns out, it just happened to come out to an even twenty," he told her, his mouth turning up in a half-smile.  "C’mon, take it out and have a good look at it."

She smiled at his eagerness which he spectacularly failed to conceal.  Lifting out the hairbow, she took a closer look at the three strands.  The middle strand consisted of silver links that had several glass knobs that hung on its middle, bordered by multi-colored beads.  At its bottom was a silver letter ‘D.’ On either side were silver links, but with simpler glass stars and more multi-colored beads.  The whole lovely thing sparkled in spectral facets in any kind of light.  "You like?"

She nodded, her throat tightening.  "I like."

"Go ahead, put it on.  That’s what it’s for, right?"

"Josh, I can’t take this...I mean, I like expensive gifts, but I can’t accept them over twenty dollars.  Considering my job, you know."

"I told you, this thing came out to a lucky $19.99."

She smiled wanly.  "Barely missed the mark, huh?"

"I know.  I gave a sigh of relief then.  Close call, you know."

"Uh-huh."  Still, she did not put it on, but rather looked at it, eyes shining.

"It was the least I could do, getting you a new one after messing up the one you had before," he said, pointing to the makeshift bandage she had put on his arm.  Nodding, she lifted the thing like a bomb, and carefully pulled her hair through the clip attached to the bottom of the bow, knotting it tightly so it could not possibly slip off.  The sides of the bow peeped over her head slightly, the crystal heart glistening, and the three silver strands suspended through her golden hair, shimmering almost as brightly as the beads themselves.  The strands came down almost the whole length of her hair, which came down to her waist.

"How do you like it," he asked eagerly.

She didn’t say anything.  She just smiled widely and flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.  It was a pretty sight they made, Kitsune thought.  This time, she really did wipe a tear off her eye (and her camera lens) as she watched them from behind a trash can across the street.  "I guess they’re better off than I am, even if they won’t admit it," she said to no one in particular.

                                                *************

(FRIDAY 8:26 PM)

After a while, she let go of him, and said, waveringly, "I’m kind of tired...want to sit down someplace?"

Startled out of his reverie, he answered, "Uh, yeah."  And they walked over to one of the empty outdoor café tables and sat down.  Somehow, they both felt that an important moment had passed and another like it wouldn’t come for a long time, and they both missed it.  The weight of this thought made them both silent as they stared at the ground, the sky, but not each other.  Every few seconds, she would finger the beads behind her back, careful to let her hair fall behind her chair so she wouldn’t lean back and crush them.  Each time she did this, Josh chanced a glance at her and smiled a little.

The night was so quiet.  The moon hung in the sky, a suspended orb of pearly whiteness that illuminated her ribbon and hair.  She could see her old ribbon glowing lightly on his arm too.  The silence was so loud she had to say something.  "You know..."

"Hmm."

"You know, the waxing or waning moon represents hatred or unrest.  The new moon is an omen of death or destruction.  But for telling the future, people believed that the full moon was best.  Its white light gave power, they thought.  I heard that on PBS show sometime ago," she added.  She wished she could tell the future.  This was the perfect night for it too.

"Hey, Donna," Josh said in a strange voice.

"What?"  In her head, she heard the weird tone in his words and wondered... _Maybe...Maybe something like this will happen:_

_Fantasy Schema_

_Josh: Donna...I’ve loved you for a long time now..._

_Me: Huh, really?!_

_And then after that, he’ll pull me into his sweet embrace and then kiss me, right there in the middle of the street.  But...then when we get back to work, our torrid relationship will get out somehow, inevitably, and then the press will crucify us!  We’ll be doomed when CJ finds out and then the President will fire us!_

_President: What the hell were you guys thinking?!_

_Leo: Are you drinking stupid pills or something?!_

_Toby: You’re not playing with a full deck, Josh!_

_CJ: What, is it your time of month or something, Donna?!_

_Sam: One of these days, they’re gonna come and lock you up...(but wait, he doesn’t_

_here anymore!)_

_And then we’ll be cast out of the White House, branded forever with scandal.  No one will hire us, and eventually starvation will bring Josh to his senses, and I’ll be abandoned in a empty shack with Kitsune’s empty beer bottles and with an empty soul and heart..._

_End Fantasy Schema_

Her thoughts swirled around her in a chaotic vortex of anxiousness.  _Bad, this trend is bad!_

"Hey, Donna," he said, standing up.  Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, pulled her up and ran down the street, saying, "I have got the best idea, which is saying a lot, between you and me.  We’re going to end today with a bang!"

_B-bang?!_ she thought in horror as she was pulled through Georgetown like a flapping banner.  _Ehh?!_   A flashback of what Kitsune told her that morning came back to her: "No matter what, if he forcefully ‘invites’ you, you can’t give ‘it’ to him that easily," her image of Kitsune told her, over and over and over.

_No, I can’t!  This can’t be happening!  But, if I’m invited so forcefully..._ her thoughts were compounded by the sight of all the tall buildings around her, each and every one sporting a sign that said: Hotel, Motel, Bed and Breakfast, Hotel, Motel, Bed and Breakfast, Hotel, Motel, Bed and Breakfast.  Her head spun and she felt like she was smothering.

After passing several such buildings, Josh found the one he was looking for, and pulled her into a very fancy Ramada.  He halted in front of the receptionists desk, and told her to, "Wait her a minute, okay?"  Unable to do anything but obey, she stood numbly as he spoke to the receptionist, seemed satisfied, and pulled her once more in another direction, saying, "The place is this way!"  All the time, she thought, as they sped across the floor, _The Mace, the Mace, I’ve got to get the Mace!_

"Almost there," he muttered as they slowed.  She pressed her eyes together in terror.  _I can’t look.  If we’re going to do it, I can’t look.  If I even see the love suite, I’ll die._   When the stopped, she didn’t open them.  "Here we are!"  When a few seconds passed, and she didn’t hear the sound of the love suite door opening, she peeped out the corner of her eye.

It was a Photo Booth.  It was one of those souvenir photo booths that tourists snapped pictures of and sent home to their correspondences.  She let out a burst of relieved laughter.  "Is this it?"

"Yup!" he said proudly.  "I figure what better way to commemorate our ‘vacation’ than to take a cheesy souvenir picture of our time in Georgetown?"

"I guess so, huh?" she laughed, so relieved, it actually seemed like fun.  He pulled the curtain over and she got in, then he got in.  An outsider such as ourselves would only see flashes from inside the booth illuminating the pair of feet that could be seen where the curtain ended, but when they got out, they took a look at the pictures that were taken.

The picture card came out divided into four columns of four different pictures.  The top row featured a nice picture of Josh and Donna looking into the camera, grinning, as they tried to figure out exactly how best to pose themselves.  Donna had an intrigued expression, while Josh merely looked amused.

The second row of pictures showed Donna puffing out her cheeks and sticking out her tongue, eyes wide, as Josh, behind her, took on an expression of what could only be described as a ‘rabid chipmunk.’  His teeth stuck out and his face was scrunched up so that the wrinkles on his cheeks made him look extremely disgruntled.

The third row was a funny row too.  She was pulling out her hair like curtains, a witchy expression on her face, and he was pulling down his eyelid at the camera, rolling his eyes, and sticking out his tongue.

The last was her favorite: it showed her leaning on his shoulder, facing the camera, a big grin on her face, and his head leaning on her hair, him looking over to the side, also a wide grin on his face.

After looking for a long while, he pulled two columns apart and took it for himself, handing the other one to her.  "Here," he said.

"Thanks.  We’re both very photogenic, aren’t we?"

"I know I am," he said smugly.

"You just had to say it," she said, shaking her head but still smiling.

"Nothing wrong with the honest truth."

"Then why don’t we get started on MY truths then.  I think I’d like to start off by saying just how beautiful and gorgeous I am..." she began, him groaning.  Neither of them realized it as they walked out the hotel and back towards their almost forgotten cars, but she was still linking her arm through his, and leaning against him, both unaware of what they were doing.

A period of time passed, and they finally got to their cars.  Separating reluctantly, neither wanted to be the first to say, "See you later," and end the day.  To end that day was like ending something so important, but neither could (or wanted to) tell why.  Finally, Donna said, "I had a really good time today...despite the disasters along the way."

"Me too.  No wonder we don’t go out; it’s like we draw trouble to ourselves."

"I guess I shouldn’t bother Kitsune about that anymore," she said, shaking her head, smiling.

"Thank her for today, will ya?"

"Yeah, I will."

They both paused.  The moment seemed eternal, suspended in time.  Without warning, she went up to him, held one side of his face with her hand, and pressed her lips on his other cheek.  "Thanks for this," she said, touching her hair ribbon and smiling.  Then backing off, she went to her car, opened it and got in.

For a moment, he stood there, his hand still on his face, where her lips had been only a few seconds before.  Then, it was as if he came to his senses, shaking his head and getting back to normal.  "Thanks for this," he called after her, touching the hair ribbon on his arm, and slightly smiling.

"Ah, get out of here, you’re DRIVing me crazy!  Get it?  DRIVE?  Haha!  Ah, that joke kills me every time," she laughed, and drove off.

Shaking his head, he got into his car, and drove back to his house too, smiling all the way.

                                                ***********

(FRIDAY 10:32 PM)

Kitsune was waiting up for her as she got through the door.  "Hey, you want to see the pictures I took today?"

"Sure, I owe you that much.  What’s the theme this time?"

"Denial."

Raising her eyebrows, Donna commented, "Nice."

"Yeah.  Well, I’m going to bed.  I left the pictures in a book on the table, if you want to look at them."  Grinning leeringly, Kitsune slitted her narrow eyes, and swaggered off to bed, where she had left her camera and binoculars when she got home.

Curiously, Donna peered at the little album on the table, then gasped.  All the pictures...

Here was one of her hair blowing in the breeze while Josh stared, struck dumb.  Another of them eating in Mabel’s.  One of them sleeping on the bus, leaning on each other.  Another of them in the fountain, and another of them apprehending Sadist Man in the boutique (where did she take that one, I wonder?).  Another of her holding a spoon of crème brulee into his face, another of the waiter pouring water on his head, another of her wiping him off.  Still more of him giving her the ribbon in the light of the store, and them sitting in the moonlight at the café tables.  The last, of her pecking him on the cheek at their cars.

Surprised, then not so surprised, she took out her two columns of instant photos and put them next to the artistically arranged and taken photos.  The whole day seemed to fit in.  She got up, sighed, and went to the shower.  She was about to take the longest hot bath of her life.

                                                **********

(FRIDAY 10:32 PM, at the same time)

When he got back to his apartment, Josh collapsed, completely exhausted onto his couch.  It was amazing how a day off could make him even more tired than when he actually went to work.

He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling for a while, then pulled out the photo booth pictures from his pocket.  Looking at them, no one could tell that they had just spent the day running from the mob and kicking a crazy guy’s ass.  He let out a quiet laugh, stood up, and put the photos in his desk drawer, sliding it shut carefully.  Then he turned, and went to the bathroom.  He was about to take the longest cold shower of his life.

                                                **********

(SATURDAY 6:02 AM)

Picking over the piled up work in his office, Josh was searching through his mess for a specific research folder, when he heard someone come in.

"Hey, you’re late."

"Yeah, yeah.  This is the earliest I’ve ever been late."

"Do you know where the capital punishment file is?"

"Left drawer, third down, ‘C.’"

"Ah, here it is.  What does this say?  Custard phalange?"

"Capital punishment.  What are you trying to say?"

"Nothing.  Just that your handwriting sucks as much as my watch."

"Ooh, that’s really bad.  Hey, yesterday was really fun.  We should do it more often."

"Okay, work overtime for me another five days and I’ll think about it."

"Ugh, I knew you were gonna say that.  But seriously...take me out again sometime, huh?"

"Sure.  Now bring me a cup of java would ya?"

"As if!" she laughed, walking out, her hair shimmering in the sunlight, the sparkling beads dancing across her tresses.

He watched her a moment then turned his attention back to the punishment records, the white ribbon on his arm still tied on.  He fingered it absently.  "Donna?" he called out.

"What Josh?" she yelled back.

"Let’s get to work."

                                                THE END

" _Spring...when a man’s fancy turns into thoughts of love."_

WAIT!  Don’t close the book just yet!  There’s one more thing for you to see!  Scroll down!  Scroll down!

__

FRIDAY 9:38 PM

I found it on the table.

They look cute, don’t they?

Aren’t you glad I’m a snoop?

          - Kitsune


End file.
